


Always Finding Trouble, the Curse of Being a Solo

by DeviantXen



Series: The Redemption of Ren [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angry Kylo Ren, Angst, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben Solo Trying His Best, Creepy Snoke (Star Wars), Evil Snoke, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Parent Han Solo, Han Solo Lives, Han and Ben Space Trip, Hurt/Comfort, Hux Has No Chill, Hux is Not Nice, Internal Conflict, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Backstory, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Redemption, M/M, Minor Leia Organa/Han Solo, Parent Han Solo, Parents Han and Leia, Protective Kylo Ren, Redeemed Ben Solo, Smuggler Ben Solo, Smuggler Han Solo, Snoke Being a Dick, Solo's Magnetize Danger, hurt!Kylo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-02-20 15:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13149222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeviantXen/pseuds/DeviantXen
Summary: Kylo Ren has decided to give Ben Solo another chance. But of course things aren't that simple. With Snoke still torturing him at every turn, Ben struggles to keep hold of the Light, but at least this time he has help. Han Solo is determined to aid his son by doing what he knows how to do best, running away. At least this time he's taking his son with him, and by the Galaxy is he going to make the most of it. It's time to teach Ben the ropes. He'll make a Smuggler out of him yet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of a sequel to "It Will Never be Kylo Ren" which kinda needs to be read first I guess to get the full redemption experience haha.

Ben Solo sighed. He had been confined to a _special_ room in the Resistance’s med bay for the last few days while he recovered from the blaster wound to his abdomen. Of course he had to be separated from the rest of the patients. They didn’t trust him. Which, was of course, fair. After all, it was only a week ago that he was their enemy, Commander Kylo Ren of the First Order, the man who stood and watched as Starkiller Base blew up multiple planets and slaughtered _billions._ The thought of it now made him feel queasy. Genocide. It was genocide. The fact was, if it wasn’t for General Leia pretty much begging for clemency, the Resistance would have had him executed on the spot. Maybe he would have preferred that. He wasn’t sure yet.  
  
He leant back into the pillows, closed his eyes and thumped the back of his head against the wall. He didn’t like it here. The way the medical staff would look at him. The _scorn._ It wouldn’t have hurt if he was stilling wearing the mask of Ren. But he wasn’t. No, now they were judging Ben. Ben had emotions, Ben had feeling; Ben was _suffering._  
  
He hadn’t seen much of Han Solo within the last few days and even less of Leia. He supposed she had a lot to deal with, having vouched for him, insisting that he wasn’t just working undercover to destroy the Resistance from the inside. No one was happy about the arrangement. Han had been recovering, too. He had taken Chewie back to his home planet to celebrate a belated Life Day. He would be back today. Hopefully.  
  
The sound of the intricate locking mechanism opening caught Ben’s attention. He cracked open his eyes towards the door, expecting another fleeting face of one of the medical staff, or even a droid. It wasn’t either. It was the ex-Stormtrooper FN-2187. The man hesitated in the doorway for a moment, his hand firmly clasped around the grip of the blaster strapped to his leg.  
  
“I’m…I’m here to escort you to your new quarters Ren.” Finn said, just about managing to hold an air of confidence.  
  
“Ben,” he corrected. Finn didn’t rectify his mistake. It wasn’t a mistake to him. After a moment of being silently judged by scathing eyes, Ben slowly climbed off the bed, pressing a hand against his still tender mid-section. It would probably be another week until it would be fully healed. If there was one thing Ben would never do again, it would underestimate the power behind that bowcaster. Ben straightened himself out and removed all hint of emotion from his face. Then, he headed towards Finn, his stride large and his posture rigid. Finn darted to the side to avoid being barged into as Ben made no attempt to slow down as he exited the room. Finn was tempted to voice his annoyance, but could only swallow his words when he got flashes of the figure, wielding that fiery weapon. The man before him would always be that monster in the mask.    
  
“Follow me,” he said curtly, tightening his grip on his weapon. All he needed was a reason to use it. He wouldn’t hesitate. At least he hoped he wouldn’t. Ben followed Finn down the corridors, trying to ignore all the passers-by, feeling their auras of absolute hatred. He didn’t like being escorted around like a prisoner. It irritated him. But so did everything.  
  
“Here.” Finn pointed towards the heavily guarded door. Ben took a deep breath as the two men, fully armed with huge blasters glared at him. Figured. Before he stepped foot in his new _cell_ , he turned towards Finn.  
  
“Look, FN–” Ben started.  
  
“It’s Finn now,” the man corrected.  
  
“Finn. I just wanted to…apologise,” he said.  
  
“An apology means nothing coming from you,” Finn said, shaking his head. Saying he was sorry wasn’t going to bring back everyone he had slaughtered. Ren’s hands were too bloodied to ever be forgiven, to ever be forgotten. Ben’s jaw hardened, but he remained silent. He should have guessed that nothing he could ever say would change anything, not really. “I will return for you when it’s lunch time. Until then I have been told to tell you that you will remain within these chambers.”  
  
“Fine.” He said. The guards at the door didn’t move a muscle as he passed them. But he _heard_ them. Loud and clear.  
  
_“I can’t believe they actually let this monster live. Should have left him to rot.”_  
  
_“If it were up to me, I would have had him shot before he even stepped one foot on this base.”_  
  
  
The doors locked shut behind him and of course they were only accessible from the outside. Ben focused on his breathing, in an attempt to calm the fire that already had him balling his hands into fists. To distract himself, he took in his new surroundings. The room was pretty barren, consisting mainly of a standard issue single bed with grey sheets, a bedside table with a lamp and a small table and chair. He didn’t even have a window. A small room followed on from the main area. At least they had given him a bathroom.  
  
As expected, in every corner of the chamber was a camera, probably linked up to some security system where someone could constantly monitor his actions. Not having any privacy was a new feeling for him. He rarely had eyes on him in Starkiller base, most people were too afraid to even look in his direction. But right now, everyone was watching. Ben was half tempted to break the stupid cameras, just to see what would happen. But he decided against it, for the sake of his parents. He had promised them both that he would try to behave.  
  
Ben sat himself down on the chair, which was as uncomfortable as it looked, and just stared at the cold metallic wall. It had only been a few days of being Ben Solo and already he was struggling. He had already had to restrain himself from lashing out at the medical staff, whom were just trying to their job. Already he had thought about running away, far away, anywhere. Already he regretted his inability to hide behind a monster. He couldn’t erase the thoughts that were constantly filling his mind, the floodgates had been opened and every feeling of self-loathing he had ever stashed away were now openly torturing him. He should have taken the easy way out.  
  
Time passed slowly as Ben just waited, only getting up to use the bathroom and to pour himself a glass of water when he felt his mouth go dry. It was a much needed relief when the sound of his door broke him from his trance. He flashed his eyes towards the opening, to where once again, Finn stood. He looked just as thrilled to see him as he did a few hours ago.  
  
“It’s time for lunch,” he stated. Ben stood up, stretching out the cramps in his long legs and followed him out, to now be joined by the two guards.  
  
_“I hope he chokes.”_  
  
Ben frowned at the comment but ultimately ignored it. The canteen was swimming with people, from the pilots dressed in luminous orange, to the mechanics covered in grease, the well-dressed officers and all those in between. Even after the destruction of the Republic, the Resistance still looked as strong as ever. Upon his entrance, silence fell and every single pair of eyes shot in his direction. Never before had he such an audience.   
  
_“Monster.”_  
  
Someone said from an unknown direction. Ben tensed. Finn then started to escort him through the crowd. Whispering voices started to bombard him from every direction while shoulders slammed into him with every step he took. Neither Finn nor the guards made any attempt to stop them. Did they not know what he was capable of? He could kill them all. Easily. Without breaking a sweat.  
  
_“Murderer.”_  
  
_“Butcher.”_  
  
_“Demon.”_  
  
The noise quickly became overwhelming. But no matter how hard he looked he couldn’t see anyone’s lips moving.   
  
_“He doesn’t deserve our food.”_  
  
_“Only a coward hides behind a mask.”_  
  
_“I can’t believe he’s the General’s son. She must be devastated.”_  
  
He wanted them all to shut up. But they wouldn’t. They just kept berating him. Ben dug his nails into his palms and let out a gruff breath. He took an elbow to his side, it grazed his wound.  
  
_“He should have never been born.”_  
  
_“No wonder Han Solo ran away.”_  
  
_“Kylo Ren is a monster. He killed my brother.”_  
  
He was on fire. Burning. Inside. He tried covering his ears. But the voices wouldn’t stop. They were everywhere. Penetrating his mind. It was too much. He stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t calm down. There was too much fire. So much red.  
  
“Ren?”  
  
“Leave me alone!” Ben yelled, forcing his fists out the side in a sudden shockwave. The crowd around him were blasted away. Tables, chairs, and anything that wasn’t welded to the ground flew along with them, clattering against the walls and floor. Why wouldn’t they just shut up? Ben stood in the middle of the room, his whole body shaking with fury. He looked around him, to all the blasters that were suddenly pointed in his direction, including Finns.  
  
“On your knees, Ren.” One of them called. He growled in response. The air around him still vibrating with energy.  
  
“What is going on in here?” A familiar voice silenced his immediate rage. Leia squeezed out from between the line of guards stood at the entrance. Her face was filled with disappointment, despite how much she tried to hide it. “Everyone, lower your weapons.”  
  
“But General…” A guard said.  
  
“I said, lower them.” She repeated. They all did as they were told. She approached her son, cautious but assuredly. Ben didn’t move, but kept his eyes focused on her, blanking out everything else to allow his mother to subdue his flames.  
  
“Ben…” she muttered, looking up into the furious brown eyes of her child. She made an attempt to touch his cheek, but he pulled away. “Why don’t we go talk back in your chambers, hmm?” After a few long moments, Ben nodded. He wanted away from all these people, all these voices. She lead him back through the crowd, who at least this time, gave him a wide berth.  
  
_“How can we trust the General anymore? She’ll let us all die before we could even take one shot at her son. How could she protect such a villain?”_  
Ben clenched his jaw but continued to march. Soon the voices began to disperse, until there was only one of them left, the one that shared the room with him.  
  
_“How am I going to deal with him? His temper, it’s gonna destroy this base and everything we’ve fought for. Maybe bringing him here was a bad idea. I can’t put the life of my son over all these people. I just can’t.”_  
  
Ben threw his fist into the metal wall of his prison cell, easily leaving a dint. Without the aid of his padded gloves, he felt his knuckles crack.  
  
“Ben please,” Leia sighed.  
  
“Why did you bring me here? If you thought it was such a bad idea?” He asked sharply, leaning his forehead against the cold surface. He needed to calm down. The last thing he wanted to do was to lash out at his mother.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Leia uttered. “I didn’t mean to think that…I didn’t realise you were, _listening._ ”  
  
“I wasn’t.” Ben replied. Or at least he wasn’t intentionally. A sudden sharp pain in his head had him reeling, dropping down to his knees. The room around him darkened and crumbled away.  
  
_The giant throne once again sat before him, looming across the shadowed expanse of the Finalizer. Ben slowly looked up at the towering holographic image of the Supreme Leader, fuzzing at the edges. Snoke’s ego was just as big as his image._  
  
_“How do you like my little gift, Ren?” Snoke sniggered, arching forward. “You think I would let you go so easily?”_  
  
_“The voices,” Ben muttered, quickly catching on. They weren’t voices. They were thoughts. Ben was hearing everyone’s thoughts, all at once, without filter and without choice._  
  
_“You can’t put the past behind you, Kylo Ren. Soon you will see that. You will suffer, you will break, and you will return to me.” Snoke stated, resting his arms across his false seat._  
  
_“I will never return to you,” Ben sneered. He no longer wants to take part in the game Snoke was playing. As of this moment, he was on neither side of the war, the only place he could be._  
  
_“We shall see.”_  
  
The image faded into darkness, allowing the light of his mother to once again flow into view. Her worried voice was piercing his mind as she gently shook his shoulders.  
  
“Mom?” He uttered, blinking her features into focus.  
  
“Oh thank goodness, you spaced out there, I was worried,” she said. Ben allowed himself a moment of weakness, allowed himself to press his face against his mother’s shoulder, to breathe in the familiar scent of her perfume. Leia buried her fingers in his dark locks and pulled him close. She could feel it, the darkness still hovering over her son like a persistent stain. The presence of Snoke, whom was yet to relinquish his hold, would be a detriment to the Resistance. Ben couldn’t stay here. Not like this.  
  
“I’m sorry…” Ben muttered. He knew this whole thing was going to be a bad idea, returning to the Light was going to be a whole lot harder than even he could have anticipated. This guilt trip he had already begun to experience only pulled him back towards the Darkness, where he could once again hide in the shadows. He had to fight this. To prove to himself that Ben Solo was still alive.  
  
Another familiar presence alerted Ben as he pulled away from his mother, just to see the mechanism on the door unlocking itself. Han Solo’s face immediately fell as he saw his wife and son on the floor, below the evidence of a classic Ben Solo rage-fuelled outburst.  
  
“What have a missed?”  
 

              

 


	2. Chapter 2

“So lemme get this straight, you can hear everyone’s thoughts, and you can’t turn it off?” Han cocked an eyebrow. It was a lot to process, but at the same time, everything to do with the Force was a lot to process. It was reasons like these that had Han coming to the same conclusion that Ben being born with this ability was more of a curse than a gift.   
  
“That about sums it up…” Ben replied, solemn. Even right now he could hear the top layers of his parent’s thoughts scratching his mind, with Leia’s concern and Han’s ability to curse in about five different languages simultaneously. He tried to block it out, tried to ignore them both, but it was hard. Leia let out a long sigh and turned to her husband, already feeling the bitter taste of the words she was about to say.   
  
“We can’t keep him here. What if Snoke’s hold is two-way? Snoke will find out all our weaknesses, all our secrets, he will know exactly how to plan a strike against us. The Resistance will be compromised from the inside, something that we cannot afford if we have any hope at even surviving this war.” She said. As much as she wanted to put her duty as a mother over her duty as a General, she couldn’t, not like this. These people all looked up to her for leadership, a responsibly she had taken with the upmost resolution. “I’m sorry Ben.”   
  
“I understand,” Ben replied, managing to hide his anguish almost flawlessly. He was used to it after all. This wasn’t the first time that Leia had put her career first. Sure, logically he understood the position she was in, but that didn’t stop him from feeling at least somewhat betrayed. He probably would have gotten angry, if it wasn’t for Han then opening his mouth.    
  
“Chin up, kiddo. I think this is a good a time as any to take that little trip we had talked about. How about it, eh? You, me, Chewie, the Falcon, and a good ol’ smuggling mission to Lothal to get some slightly illegal Medical droids.” Han proposed, patting his son on the shoulder. “I can even show you the ropes, I never got a chance to teach you to pilot the Falcon.”   
  
“Better late than never,” Ben just about managed to crack a smirk.   
  
“That settles it, we’re going on a Solo father and son, space trip,” Han said, proudly.   
  
“With Chewie,” Ben then added.  
  
“He’s pretty much an honorary Solo by this point,” he waved the comment off. He had spent far too much of his life with his Wookiee companion to not count him as family. They had had each other backs for as long as he could remember.

  
Ben didn’t exactly have much to pack. His old robes were confiscated upon landing in the Resistance base and probably by this point, burnt to a crisp. His lightsaber had been destroyed in an explosion. His helmet, too, which went down with Starkiller base. What little he had left of Kylo Ren probably still remained in his old quarters upon the Finalizer (including that of a mask that belonged to Darth Vader and a few old trophies from his conquests) where Hux will probably have them thrown in the nearest garbage chute. It didn’t matter though. No, all Ben Solo had on him, was his stuffed Wookiee that he had become strangely fond of, and the metal ornaments hanging from his neck.   
  
“This is just until we figure things out, Ben. By in no way is this a permanent solution to anything. I want you back in my arms for good, Ben Falcon Solo. We just need to be safe on this,” Leia said, smiling up at her son, praying that this goodbye wouldn’t be as long as the last. It hurt to watch him go again when she had just got him back, but she knew he would be safe with Han, (or at least as safe as one could get with the stuck-up, scruffy-looking Nerf-herder). After all, he was still with his family.   
  
“I know,” he nodded, leaning into her soft embrace, remembering a time where he didn’t have to duck down so much. His mother was so small now.   
  
“And remember, if you start to doubt yourself, just know there is always more room for good in this Galaxy, no matter where it comes from. A candle that has gone out, can always be relit and the wax can always be remolded.” She placed a small kiss on her son’s forehead before letting him go, remembering a time where she didn’t have to stretch up so much. Her son was so tall now. She truly believed that one day, Ben would return to the fight, this time for the right side. To end the war once and for all.   
  
“I’ll miss you,” Ben muttered.   
  
“I’ll miss you, too. Now go and get inside that piece of junk before you make me cry,” she chuckled, gesturing towards the boarding ramp that lead to the interior of the Millennium Falcon, the crappiest, most famous ship in the entire galaxy. Ben gave his mother once last goodbye before he headed up, to be greeted by Chewie, ready and waiting. Leia then turned towards her husband, having now finished loading up the cargo bay with supplies.   
  
“Hey princess,” Han grinned.   
  
“Promise me you’ll look after him,” Leia urged.   
  
“I promise, I will do everything in my power to keep that not-so-little brat on the right path. We won’t lose him again. I won’t let that happen.” Han said with complete assurance. He meant it. He would move entire planets before he’d let the Darkness reclaim his boy. He kissed Leia on the cheek and started to back up towards his ship.   
  
“Try not to teach him anything too unlawful.”   
  
“I won’t. Or at least, I’ll try not to.”  
  
“And try not to get into too many scrapes, I want him back in one piece.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“And Han Solo.” He turned around, half-way up the ramp. “Be safe.”  
  
“You got it.” With one last salute, Han Solo headed inside.   
  
  
“I forgot how musty this ship smells,” Ben commented, leaning against the framework next to the entrance. Han rolled his eyes as he pressed the button to retract the ramp. It didn’t work first time. Or the second. Third time was the charm after Han pretty much smashed the button with his hand, while trying and failing to ignore the smirking Ben beside him. “You know that’s supposed to work first time, right?”   
  
“Would you look at that kid, you’ve been on the Falcon for all of five minutes and you’re already insulting the poor girl,” Han frowned. “At least she has charm, unlike those ugly pieces of metal you call dreadnaughts.”   
  
“At least their big,” Ben replied with some form of dismissive shrug.   
  
“Big isn’t everything, kid.”  
  
“You sure?” He said, standing at his full height to measure against Han, just a few inches taller than the man he called his father. Han crossed his arms, looking entirely unimpressed. “I told you I would grow.”   
  
“That you did, kiddo; that you did.” The smuggler said, making his way down the corridor to the cockpit, the sooner they took off, the better. In truth, Han really didn’t expect his son to grow _that_ much. He was kriffing huge. Like a tower. Ben couldn’t help but smirk at that thought, once again unable to stop himself from listening in. He followed his father towards the cockpit, trying to ignore all the slightly alarming noises of things that may or may not have been dysfunctional on this ship, all stuff which Han, apparently, had learnt to blissfully ignore.   
  
Chewie was already sat in his co-pilot seat, patiently waiting. Ben flinched when he got too close to the Wookiee, something that Han immediately noticed. It was hard to be around him, listening to the loud and growly Shyriiwook talk assault his head was both painful and annoying, as his ability to auto-translate meant that his brain couldn’t even _try_ to ignore it.   
  
“You can hear him, too, huh?” Han questioned, cocking an eyebrow.  
  
“Yeah. But at least in here it’s just two voices,” Ben sighed, massaging his temples. What he’d give for some peace and quiet. Han took his seat and let instincts take over, pressing buttons and flipping switches, all to prep the engines. Once the Falcon had shuddered into life, (which Han didn’t even have to look behind him to know that his son was pulling a face) he turned to Chewie.   
  
“Do you mind, buddy?” Chewie nodded and stood up. Han then gestured to the now empty seat. “So how about it, Ben. Wanna be my co-pilot?”  
  
“Are you…being serious?” Ben took a hesitant step forward, unsure about the whole idea.   
  
“It’s probably a little soon to start you on the big stuff, but I’m sure you can handle being a co-pilot,” Han said, patting the seat, before noticing the pile of Wookiee hair, which he promptly brushed off. Even after all these years, that was still pretty gross. Still, better the seat than the shower drain. Ben was still a little uncertain, but after a Chewie nudged him towards the seat, he had no choice but to take it. Mainly as what Chewie judged as a simple nudge, was actually a forceful shove that had Ben almost stumbling into the control panel. Despite that, Chewie got off with just a glare. Ben was a little too distracted to get mad.   
  
“So…what do I do?” He asked, physically unable to hide the nerves from his voice. Han leant over and started to point at different areas on the console, teaching his son what they meant and which order to push them in. Ben listened intently, finding himself asking questions about other buttons and before he knew it he was getting an almost complete run down of the ship and how she operated. Seeing the sheer look of interest in Ben’s face, made Han’s heart swell with pride. It was like a moment in a dream, a fantasy, one that he thought he’d never experience. But here he was now, teaching his boy how to fly the Millennium Falcon. It was the best feeling in the in the universe.    
  
Although it took half an hour longer than expected, the Falcon eventually made it into space. Ben slumped back into the chair and listened to the streams and streams of delighted thoughts that Han probably wasn’t even aware he was thinking. It made him smile. He had forgotten what being happy felt like. Quite literally. Just that mellow feeling in your stomach. One that made you appreciate the moment, and how much being alive was worth it in the end.   
  
“I think Chewie might be out of a job,” Han chuckled. Chewie made a noise of displeasure. “Come on, you know I’m only kidding, you big hairy oaf. Though seriously, you did a good job, Ben.”  
  
“Thank you,” he uttered, his face actually aching a little from smiling too much. He really wasn’t used to it.   
  
“Right,” Han said, bouncing to his feet. He hadn’t felt this full of energy in a long time. “I better go show you to your bunk.”   
  
“I think I can find the crew quarters on my own,” Ben replied, crossing his arms. “I remember this ship better than you think.”   
  
“I never said you didn’t, but I have something else I want to show you as well.” Han didn’t wait for Ben to argue further and instead just shot past him, fully expecting Ben to follow, which he did.   
  
  
“I apologise that you still gotta share we me and Chewie, but I promise Chewie only snores _sometimes_ ,” Han said, making a grand gesture towards the bunk that was marginally cleaner than the rest of them, but currently occupied by two boxes. “This will be where you’ll be living from now on, so get comfortable.”  
  
“I suppose it’ll do,” Ben said, frowning as he noticed the padding across the wall. “Really?”  
  
“You thrash about in your sleep like an angry Rathtar, I don’t want you damaging yourself or my wall,” Han shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of something that actually worried him to the core. He couldn’t even kid himself for a moment that he had seen the last of Ben’s nightmares. At least with him sleeping in the same room gave him the added benefit of noticing things getting out of hand before Ben could tear down the entire freighter.   
  
“What are the boxes about?” Ben asked, trying to pretend that he didn’t just hear all about Han’s apprehension.   
  
“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” Han said, motioning toward them. Ben inspected the first one, it was dusty, old, and labelled in pen by handwriting that Ben instantly recognised as his mothers. On it was just one singular word: Ben. It took little effort to pull open the deteriorated flaps and to see what was inside.   
  
“It’s…my things…from when I was a kid,” he uttered, blown away by nostalgia.   
  
“Yupp, I found the box stashed away in my cargo hold after clearing it up a little, I thought you’d appreciate looking through,” Han said, leaning against the doorframe. He was just as curious to see what was in there as Ben was. Folded nearly on top was Ben’s old jacket, a small leather replica of his fathers. He pulled it out and stretched out the material out in his hands, which now would probably only fit about his hand.   
  
“I don’t remember being this small,” he said. He used to ear this thing all the time. “But I do remember trying to imitate you.”   
  
“Yeah, I remember the time you snuck onto the Falcon, located the cockpit, managed to turn on the Falcon’s engine and almost thrust her into Lightspeed, still inside a closed hanger.”   
  
“I was just pressing buttons.”   
  
“The right ones,” Han laughed. He definitely did not laugh at the time. He had honestly thought someone was trying to hijack his ship, not that his six-year-old son had managed, by pot luck, to slam the ignition switches in the right order to start her up. That was the last time had ever let Ben near the controls, up until today. Ben gently lay the jacket on the bed beside him before diving back into the box. Next up was his old action figures of Han and Chewie. Ben couldn’t help but snort when he saw that Han was now missing an arm.   
  
“Laugh it up kid, it’s the Skywalker side of the family that has a habit of losing limbs in real life,” Han said, kinda hoping that maybe his lost arm was mixed up at the bottom of the box somewhere. He didn’t suit having one arm. “I wonder if the voice box still works.”  
  
“One way to find out,” Ben said, locating the button on mini-dads back.   
_  
“I miss you.”_  
  
The phrase hurt a little to hear. It was always the only one he hated. Every time he heard it, he would question it. If Han really did miss him, why would he leave so much? He never could figure out the answer, at least not as a kid.   
  
“You alright?” Han asked, snapping Ben out of his trance.   
  
“I’m fine.” He said, a little too quickly. He discarded the toys beside him and went back to the box, pulling out a couple of x-wings and the model of the Falcon. After that was his holographic game box, that used to be a very sorry trigger for his anger. Ben had little patience for puzzles he couldn’t solve. Ben _still_ didn’t have much patience for puzzles he couldn’t solve. Weirdly enough, next to that was his high powered magnetic stress-ball. It would shatter when he squeezed it and repair itself automatically. Or he could throw it at something and it would do the same. He wished he had had one of these back on the Finalizer. Further down was his old nightlight that used to project stars across his ceiling. It was to protect him from the Fyrnocks. They didn’t like the light after all. The layer below was filled with a bunch of crumpled up papers of crudely drawn ship ideas that were more adventurous than practical. Underneath those was a heavy book with a worn down cover. _Tales of the Jedi._  
  
“Mom used to read me this whenever she could,” Ben said, flicking through the pages. Most of the time he had to read it to himself. He put the book back in the box, even just the word Jedi had connotations with awful memories. He knew he had to face them eventually, when he was stronger, but right now they would just lead him straight back to the dark place. The last thing inside the box was a stupid little glow ball. Oh did he remember this thing.   
  
“Don’t you dare throw that thing, Ben,” Han warned. He had seen the damage that little thing could cause on more than one occasion. He swore it could move at lightspeed.   
  
“Afraid you can’t catch it, old man?” Ben smirked, tossing the thing at the wall. He couldn’t help himself. What he hadn’t taken into account however, was how much _harder_ he could now throw. The little blue blob bounced off the wall and zoomed around the room from surface to surface, faster than the human eye could even perceive. Luckily for Ben, the Force alerted him to its trajectory. He ducked just in time for the thing to bounce of the wall behind him, smash into the galley and knock off a couple of pans before heading straight in Han’s direction. Then something happened that Ben would never in a million lightyears have anticipated. Han caught it. Ben was completely speechless.   
  
“I still rue the day that your uncle Luke gave you this blasted thing,” Han frowned. It was supposed to help Ben with his focus and to learn to trust his instincts. Han should have trusted his instincts when he knew the thing was just going to cause him grief and a whole lot of explaining to Leia as to why her favourite vase was broken.   
  
“Am I right in assuming that you’re going to throw that thing in the next black hole we come across?” Ben couldn’t help but grin.   
  
“You assumed correctly,” Han said, pocketing the thing. Now came the question of where he was going to hide it, until said black hole. “Open the last package.”   
  
Ben didn’t have to be told twice. The second box was new and very badly taped together (probably Han’s handiwork). Ben made short work of opening it with the Force. Inside were a few new things: a pair of combat boots, durable, heavy and layered with straps and buckles, a long back trench coat with a lengthy slit in the back, and a hefty black scarf.   
  
“I figured this stuff is more your style nowadays,” Han said, scratching the back of his head. He wasn’t sure Ben was ready to move away from the darker colours quite yet. “And have you know, I actually paid for this stuff, with actual credits.”   
  
“I’m impressed,” Ben replied. The clothes were like a less threatening version of his robes and cowl, something new, but something comfortable.   
  
“Check out the bottom of the box,” Han added. Ben did so, finding more well thought out gifts: a sketchpad, books on freighter and starship architecture and a whole bunch of stationary. Ben chewed on his lip. He didn’t know how to react, not really. So replied with the first words that came into his head. “Are you encouraging my hobby, Han Solo?”  
  
“Yes I am,” he replied, knocking the side of his fist into a button down the side of Ben’s bunk. Out popped a makeshift metal desk that was stored discreetly in the wall. “I did a bit of renovating while I was away.”   
  
“Now you’re just showing off,” Ben shook his head. He was flattered, he really was. Not that he deserved any of this. He just hoped that all this effort Han was making into being a father would last.   
  
“That’s what I do,” Han said, a hand on his hip. “I have one more thing to show you.”  
  
  
Ben was surprised to find Han leading him to the forward cargo hold. A space had been cleared to the side and marked off on the floor by red tape. Inside it was a heavy-duty punching bag hanging from the ceiling, a cushy looking chair and a small table with a framed family photograph sat atop.   
  
“I told ya I was gonna get you a punching bag,” Han said, tossing him a pair of gloves that were extra padded at the knuckles. “Try to use these if you can, less strain on your knuckles.”  
  
“What is this?” Ben asked.   
  
“It’s your timeout zone, whenever you need peace and quiet or whenever you’re angry and need to vent. Basically you come here and I promise you that neither me nor Chewie will bother you, unless we really have to.” Han explained, totally having done research on Anger Management. “The area marked off is completely yours, so nothing will go in or out of it without your permission.”  
  
“I…I don’t know what to say,” Ben uttered, picking up the photograph that he figured was there to remind him what he was fighting for when he needed it most. Han was being achingly considerate and kind, and it was starting to backfire inside him, creating even more turmoil. He had done so much wrong and yet he was being treated like he had done so much _right._ “I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve your generosity, I–” He was cut off as Han grabbed hold of his shoulders and turned him to face him.  
  
“Now you listen here kid, don’t go sprouting crap like that anymore. I’m done with you feeling sorry for yourself, we’ve been through this.” Han said sharply, looking his son straight in the eyes. “There will be a time for you to face your past mistakes, but not when you’re still so close to them, when you’re still fighting the war inside you. You can’t turn to the future if you’re always staring at the past.”  
  
“You’re right. To move forward I have to let the past die…at least for now,” Ben said with a sigh. Since when did his father get so damn wise? That was a battle for another day, a day where he would be certain he would return victorious. Right now he had to play the part of Ben Solo, take up from where he had left off, before he turned into that monster. Despite his flaws, Ben Solo _was_ a good person, and would be once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needs editing, I know :3


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the day went by pretty smoothly. Chewie had demanded to play Dejarik, expecting to find Ben out of practice. He wasn’t. In fact he was much better at the game than he ever had been, having picked up a few tactics or two from paying attention to Hux, who was indeed a master strategist (though that man would never dirty himself playing such a childish game, he much preferred holo-chess). Chewie had accused him of cheating, of reading his mind to assume his next move, to which Ben had gone on to say that Han’s thoughts were loud enough to drown out anything that Chewie was thinking at the time. It was mostly true. There was a few turns where he had allowed himself to cheat. Ben liked to win, even if it meant playing dirty, that much hadn’t changed.   
  
Ben lay across his new bunk, studying the schematics of an old freighter, one that was a base archetype for many modern variations of the ship. It was giving his mind a real workout and a lot of new ideas. He liked his new books.   
  
“Not tired yet, eh?” Han cocked an eyebrow, already clad in what he deemed suitable pyjamas (basically a very, _very_ old shirt and whatever pants fitted the loosest). Chewie was already fast asleep on his own bunk, without a blanket of course (he was his own blanket).   
  
“I’m used to long days and short nights,” Ben replied, not breaking connection with the book. Snoke had allocated him just six hours per night, just enough to keep his body functioning at optimal potential, but not enough to allow him to truly enjoy the respite of dreaming, where he could escape. Besides there was always a lot to be done around the base or the ship, so at least he could be kept busy. It was going to be a hard habit to break.   
  
“Well, try not to stay up too late,” Han said with a little grin, slipping under the covers of his bunk. Ben just grunted in response. The lights flickered off in the room, leaving just the small spotlight in the roof of Ben’s bunk to light the pages of his book.   
  
Ben knew when Han fell asleep because everything became quiet. No longer could he hear his voice yammering in his head about all the useless nonsense that seemed to pass through the man’s brain. It was the first moment of absolute peace he had had all day. It was nice. Up until this moment, Ben couldn’t say he appreciated the beauty of silence, but if there was one thing for certain, he was never going to take it for granted again.   
  
Soon enough the effects of exhaustion began to make themselves known, and once Ben found himself unable to concentrate, he put the book down and allowed himself to settle down.   
               _  
  
“Ben, we need to talk,” Han Solo said, gesturing for a young Ben to sit down. Ben hopped onto the chair, feeling something churning in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t often that both his parents got together to talk about something with him. Whatever this was, it was important. Ben didn’t really like important. Important was always bad news. Leia was to work late, Han hadn’t called in when he was supposed to, Ben had broken something important.   
  
“Your mother and I have been talking and we think it might be time for you to train with Luke, to become a Jedi,” Han said, gently placing his hand over his wife’s. He didn’t like this idea. He didn’t want his son getting dragged into the eternal war that is the Force. But Ben had already been chosen. Every day he was getting stronger and harder to contain. His tantrums weren’t like they used to be, his fuse was shorter, his explosions more volatile. Sooner or later he was going to hurt someone, and Han couldn’t let that happen.  
  
“Are you coming, too?” Ben asked, voice coming out a little low. He had always wanted to be a Jedi, ever since Luke had told him the amazing stories about their power and ability to change the world. He wanted to be the best and most powerful Jedi there ever was.   
  
“No, we thought this would be best if you did this alone,” Leia said, softly. She had seen first-hand the power of the Dark Side and its destructive nature. Lately when she looked at her son, she saw flashes of Vader. The boy before her was so much like his grandfather. It worried her greatly.   
  
“For how long?” He frowned.   
  
“Indefinitely,” Han replied, eyes falling to the floor. He wished it didn’t have to be this way, but no matter what he did, he just couldn’t help his son with his anger, with the steadily growing Darkness inside him. He needed help, before it was too late.   
  
“I don’t want to go,” Ben stated, decisively. They hadn’t even asked him about this. Did he not get a say? Did they care about him so little that his own opinion didn’t matter?  
  
“We’ve already contacted Luke…he is willing to take you on as his apprentice,” Leia added, trying not to let her emotions overrun her. This had to be the hardest decision she had had to make in her entire life. She didn’t want to send her baby away, but she didn’t want to turn her head and do nothing, as her boy turned into something that he wasn’t.   
  
“No.” Ben shook his head and thumped the sides of his fists into the chair arms. “You just don’t want me. You’re just trying to get rid of me.” It made sense. Neither of them had time for him anymore and when they did, it was just filled with arguments and anger. They didn’t love him. If they loved him, they wouldn’t send him away. He didn’t want to leave. This was his _home _.  
  
“No we’re not trying to get rid of you, we’re trying to help you to find a way to deal with your anger,” Han said, gesturing for Ben to calm down. He knew it was in vain.  
  
“My anger? So I’m just a problem!?” Ben yelled, quaking. He could feel it. The fire. Coursing through his veins.   
  
“Ben, calm down.” Han got up when he felt the air around him vibrate. Not good. With serious caution, he began to approach his son. It shouldn’t have to be this way, he shouldn’t even be slightly afraid of his boy. But he was. Just a little.   
  
“Get away from me!” Ben shrieked, forcing his hand out. Han flew back.   
  
“Ben, stop!” Leia called out, right as the glass coffee table shattered beneath her. She just about had chance to shield her face as the sharp projectiles flew across the room. The sound of his mother yelping in pain startled Ben into freezing. He had just hurt his mother. He had made her bleed. She was in pain because of _him. _Han was up off the floor in seconds and rushing towards his injured wife. His eyes then snapped towards Ben, narrow and furious.  
  
“Go to your room, Ben.” He seethed. Ben shook. He had never heard his father that mad before. He didn’t even think he could get that mad. He didn’t like that look. He knew it was going to haunt his memory for the rest of his life. Once he found the feeling in his legs, Ben bolted to his room and slammed the door behind him.   
  
Han could only close his eyes and sigh with exhaustion when he heard his son tearing up his bedroom. Ben needed help. Help, that he couldn’t provide.   
  
  
_Ben woke up with a jolt, the anger from his dream still pumping through his body at full force. It was too vivid. Like watching a memory play out. That was exactly how he remembered it happening, every word, every feeling. Ben dragged his hands down his face and sat up. He needed to vent. Now.   
  
He headed through the ship, with one destination in mind. It was almost a relief to see the punching bag still dangling from the ceiling. He just about managed to slip on the gloves before he threw his first punch into the bag, relishing in the vibrations that shot up his arm. Anger was just pent up energy. Energy that needed to be released. He was such a mess back then. No wonder his parents sent him away. A voice slithered into the dark recesses of his mind, one that he knew he hadn’t heard the last of. Snoke.   
_  
“It wasn’t your fault, Ren. Anger was and always will be a part of you. They couldn’t accept that. They couldn’t accept you for how you are.”  
_  
“Leave me alone,” Ben hissed, throwing a particularly hard punch that knocked the heavy bag into swinging.   
_  
“Even now, it isn’t love that drives them into helping you. It’s guilt. They feel guilty that they helped create a monster. What they’re doing to you Ren, is destroying you. They don’t care about you, they just want to stop the threat.”  
_  
“You’re lying.” Ben haltered in movement and curled his hand around the pieces of metal that hung around his neck. They did love him. Of course they did. They were his parents. The voice disappeared back from whence it came, once again leaving Ben in silence. He closed his eyes and listened to the Falcon, to all the creaks, cranks and rasps. These were the noises of his home. He was _home._ For the first time in a long time. The thought made him smile, just a little.   
  
He turned towards pad of paper on top of the small table and scribbled a drawing across the top sheet. Once complete, he tore the paper from its binder and stuck it on the bag to admire.   
  
“I don’t want to be you anymore,” he said to the picture of his mask. “And I will do whatever it takes to destroy you, once and for all.”   
  
By the time Ben was finished, his knuckles were sore, and he was utterly exhausted. He half had to drag himself towards the shower, to wash off the rest of his negativity and to calm his brittle nerves. After that, he collapsed back onto his bunk and passed out.   
              


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyy. I'm back. Laptop is fixed. Ironically it was my dog named Kylo that broke it.

Han woke up the next morning to the sound of Chewie sleepily thudding his way towards the bathroom to take one his famous long-ass showers. It was a good job he had installed a stronger drain that wouldn’t clog up after every damn visit from the Wookiee. Definitely the best decision he had ever made when it came to upgrading the Falcon. Shaking the icky thought away, he wiped away the sleep from his eyes and sat up. The crew quarters was exactly how he left it, not a thing out of place. He turned his gaze towards the opposite side of the room, where he saw Ben still fast asleep on his front, one arm buried under his pillow, the other hanging off the edge, where bruised knuckles lightly scraped the floor. Han let out a sigh at the knowledge that his son had gotten up at some point in the night to vent. Still, it was a relief to see him still in the room. A part of Han still couldn’t shake the thought that Ben would up and bolt whenever he got the chance. He had let him slip through his fingers so easily once before, it was hard to believe that it wouldn’t happen again. It was a notion that he had to bury deep, the last thing he needed was Ben picking up on his insecurity.   
  
Han couldn’t help but watch his son for a while, still in wonderment over the fact that his kid was back with him, sleeping on the Millennium Falcon. It was truly surreal, and would never stop being amazing. The sound of Chewie mocking him, broke him from his trance.  
  
“It’s not creepy, ok. He’s my kid, I can watch him sleep if I want to,” Han said, trying to keep his voice down to not disturb said sleeping kid. He didn’t want to wake him. After a few more minutes, he realised that maybe Chewie had been right, and that maybe, just maybe, he was indeed being creepy. It took Han just a few minutes to throw his day clothes on, thinking that maybe Leia was right when she had called him scruffy. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t exactly trying to pull anymore, he was somewhat happily married. The General was stuck with him now, so he could be as scruffy as he damn well liked. Next on the agenda was breakfast. Han made himself a cup of coffee with just a dash of liquor (the way he liked it) and got to work.  
  
Chewie couldn’t remember the last time Han actually made an effort to cook. Usually they would just shove premade stuff in the heater, or stop off at some dingy diner or simply just live of nutrition bars. But no, today Han was cooking. It didn’t take Chewie long to decipher the recipe to be blue pancakes with a pinch of Juna Berries and a dollop of Beebleberry Ice-Cream. To be honest it was probably the only thing that Han could actually make well and that was probably because of all the practice. After all, it was Ben’s favourite. Chewie made a comment.  
  
“What can I say bud, I’m in a good mood this morning,” Han smiled, piling pancake after pancake on the plate. Chewie replied with a question, eagerly watching. “Yupp, don’t worry I’m making some for you to, as if I would forget about my best friend.” After stacking up a mountain’s worth on one plate, he handed them to Chewie who voiced his appreciation before carrying them over to his bunk to eat with his fingers.  
  
“If you get crumbs on the floor, you’re cleaning them up,” Han commented, accusingly pointing his spatula at the Wookiee. Chewie moved the plate a little closer to him, only to find that his chest hair had already amassed a bunch of titbits. Han shook his head, knowing that his buddy was going to be walking those everywhere. Chewie made short work of his food, fondly enjoying the dessert breakfast. He made an attempt to sneak another one, but his hand was swatted away.  
  
“Those are for Ben, big guy,” Han said, finishing up his own, much smaller plate. He couldn’t say he had much of a sweet tooth, at least not since he was a little kid. The noise from Chewie’s excessive whining woke Ben up.   
  
“Urgghhh…can you like maybe, keep it down?” Ben groaned, covering his ears with his pillow. It was too late though, already his head was filling with voices. The smell of something sweet and familiar however, quickly caught his attention. He popped his head up and looked towards the galley. “Are they what I think they are?”  
  
“Why don’t you come find out?” Han said, pulling out a hidden table and patting on one of the stools connected to its base. Ben slumped back on his bed for a moment, before he dragged himself out of it. The metal floor was cold against the base of his bare feet, but he was too tired to remind Han that underfloor heating had been invented decades ago. He stood up, stretched his back, rolled his shoulders, and then headed over. Ben slunk into the seat opposite his father and brushed his long fingers through his hair to somewhat smooth it out. Han placed a plate of pancakes in front of him and tried not to act like he was ogling him, eagerly awaiting his reaction. Even Chewie was staring at him. Supressing a sigh, he lazily picked up his fork and cut off a small section. It was sweet. Really sweet. He missed sweet.   
  
“What do you think?” Han urged.   
  
“Still good,” he replied, taking another bite. He heard his father cheer in his head, and it amused him a little. Sweet foods were banned aboard the Finalizer and Starkiller Base. Eating was just for nutritional value, not for enjoyment. Stuff like these pancakes would have been burnt in the incinerator before they even came close to being on anyone’s plates. Which was all the more reason Ben now had to clear his plate, to spite them all, even if it did make him feel a little sick. “So what is the plan for today?”  
  
“I’m glad you asked. In fact, we should be arriving at our destination any moment now,” Han said, checking his watch. “Meet me and Chewie in the cockpit once you’ve gotten dressed.”  
  
  
“The coat suits you,” Han said, giving his son a once over with his eyes, to check out his new attire. It was worth every credit.   
  
“I like it,” Ben nodded, tugging a little on his scarf. Chewie liked his new look, too. Ben barely had time to brace himself when the Falcon dropped from lightspeed with a shudder, immediately bringing a blue-green planet into view. “That’s not Lothal.”   
  
“No it is not. This Ben, is Corellia, my home planet.” Han grinned, hands already steering their ship into the atmosphere. Ben took a closer look out the viewport. He had never seen Corellia before, which was rather surprising given its location in the core.   
  
“Why are we here?” He asked, leaning against the back of the pilot’s seat.   
  
“Because I never took you here, I think it’s about time you see where your father was born,” Han replied, beginning his decent towards land. The smuggler’s mind told him a very different story.   
  
“We’re here to go drinking aren’t we?” Ben sighed, watching a large city come into view. It was quite astounding, high tech and metallic.   
  
“Yupp.” Han chuckled, setting up his landing gear as he reached a docking bay. “I never got chance to take you to your first Cantina and what better place than the first one I ever went to?”   
  
“I’ve been to plenty of Cantinas before,” Ben folded his arms across his chest.   
  
“Yeah well we’re going to here to drink in one, not to raid it.” He immediately realised his choice of words and apologised. That joke was in bad taste, even for him. Ben shook off his father’s stupid comment, despite the truth to it. The Falcon touched ground with a jolt, which was about as stable as it ever got. Again Ben held his mouth, not commenting on the fact that no one on board should be able to physically _feel_ a ship landing. Han swivelled his seat around, till he was facing his son, who did not look convinced about the whole idea of going drinking with his old man.   
  
“You mind giving me your wrist?” Han asked. Ben cocked an eyebrow.   
  
“What for?”

“Just give me it.”   
  
The younger Solo shook his head with a sigh, but held out his arm nonetheless. Han rolled up his sleeve before latching a metal bangle to his wrist. The screen interface took a moment to analyse whatever it was it was analysing before settling on a slightly fluctuating number.   
  
“My heartbeat?” Ben half frowned, a little confused.   
  
“Well you know when you angry, your heartrate increases, well I thought this could at least give us a little warning when you know, you’re getting frustrated. I’ve rigged it up a little to beep when it hits a critical level so we can try and defuse the situation. I mean we don’t exactly have a cooldown room out there,” Han explained. He was indeed a freakin genius.   
  
“Smart.” Ben said. “Still one more problem.”   
  
“And that would be?”  
  
“That out there is a city teeming with people, that’s a lot of minds and a lot of voices.” Ben gestured towards the outside, already filled with speckles of silhouettes going about their daily business. He had struggled enough with just a room full of people. Sure, those ones all hated him, but even just listening to random babble from hundreds of individuals all at once with no mute button would be just as frustrating. The last thing Ben wanted to do was to lose control and inflict more pain.  
  
“Well you see, I’ve thought about that, too,” Han said, getting up to route around in one of his under-the-console storage drawers.

“I see you’ve been doing a late of thinking lately. It’s not like you, Han Solo,” Ben smirked.   
  
“Careful, kid,” Han warned, albeit playfully. He found what he was looking for and tossed it at Ben, who of course, caught it.   
  
“Is everything on the ship as ancient as you?” Ben said, checking out the music player which was like a brick. He fiddled with it for a moment, shocked to find that it actually still worked. What the hell was that playing? Core Drive? That rubbish hadn’t been popular since the Galactic Civil War.    
  
“It’s a good job I love you,” Han pinched the bridge of his nose. “Anyway I was thinking back to my days in schooling, I always found that the days I had music blasting, the tutor’s voice sorta just mixed in with the lyrics of the music. I thought it might help a little. It’s easier to deal with one annoying noise than a bunch of smaller annoying noises.” Ben thought about it for a moment, right as Chewie gave him a more scientific explanation, something about humans only being able to focus properly on one stimuli per sense.   
  
“I suppose it’s worth trying,” Ben said, placing one of the earphones in his ear. His father had awful taste in music.   
                 
  
“Welcome Ben Solo to Coronet City, the Jewel of Corellia,” Han said, gesturing to the world around him. Ben took in his surroundings, the bustling urban metropolis with stunning architecture. He was almost in awe. Speeders raced past above them, around towering buildings flashing with colour, against a backdrop of a navy sky, glistening with three great moons.   
  
To Ben’s surprise, Han was right about the music, the lyrics were drowning out the voices of the crowd around him, allowing him to pass through without getting too worked up. No one recognised him here, no one gave him more than a fleeting glance. It was like he was invisible, just another face in the crowd. It was such a nice reprieve.   
  
Han lead through an open-air shopping mall, towards a Cantina named the Fel Swoop, which had a large amount of swoop bikes parked outside. Ben could only roll his eyes, of course the first Cantina his father had ever drunk in, had to be one filled to the brim with shady thugs and likely criminals. Not that any of them could come close in comparison to the current greatest villain of the Galaxy: Kylo Ren.   
  
As expected, the inside looked about as inviting as the outside. The whole atmosphere of the place was raucous and wild. Despite that, Han managed to find them a somewhat secluded set of seating in the corner, which gave them at least _some_ privacy. Ben slid into the seat that looked the least stained and kept his arms off the sticky table. Ben may not have been as much of a clean-freak as Hux, but even he had standards, and this whole place definitely did not meet them.   
  
“I’ll go get us a round of drinks,” Han said, heading off towards the bar. Chewie called out to him. “Yes I know, I’ll get the extra, extra, _extra_ large one.” The smuggler returned just a few minutes later carrying a tray with two regular sized drinks and one huge-ass tankard, which he proceeded to slap down in front of the Wookiee. Chewie said his thanks before picking the ginormous thing up with both hands and chugging the contents down until it was bone dry.   
  
“You’re paying for the next round, bud, considering your expensive taste.” Han said, placing a drink in front of his son and one down on his own side of the table. Chewie moaned. Ben picked up the cup and inspected the contents inside.   
  
“It’s not Twi’lek liquor is it?” He frowned, not recognising whatever was in there. He had had enough of that heavy stuff.   
  
“Naaah this is just a simple Corellian Spiced Ale. I didn’t know what you’d like so I picked out one of my favourites,” Han said, taking a nice long sip of his preferred beverage. “Just warning though, it is a little spicy, but I’m sure you can handle it.” Ben couldn’t help but take that as a challenge as he swallowed down a mouthful of the drink. Well Han wasn’t kidding. That definitely had a kick to it.   
  
“It’s like fire,” Ben said. “I like fire.”   
  
“If you say so hothead,” Han grinned, amused by his son’s determination to try and hide the after effects of the spicy liquid. He couldn’t hide the blossoming redness in his cheeks though. Nevertheless he was indeed impressed when Ben slammed down an empty cup with a smug look on his face. It was at that moment a green Twi’lek waitress sauntered over and placed a glowing blue drink in front of Ben.   
  
“It’s from him,” she said, pointing towards the rather handsome looking Zabrak with a striking crown of horns. All three of them turned their gaze towards the man as he winked at Ben, who then promptly turned back around.  
  
“Looks like you got yourself an admirer, kid. Definitely got the charm of a Solo.” Han chuckled, remembering the sheer volume of free drinks he used to get coming here, back when he was Ben’s age. He was such a player.   
  
“What do I do? I don’t know the protocol here,” Ben uttered, a little tense. Of course he brain then had to hone in on that Zabrak’s thoughts, his _dirty_ thoughts. He picked up the drink, needing the distraction and the alcohol content.   
  
“Just nod at him in appreciation,” Han said. “Unless you’re looking to get laid. Which is fine, we could always clear out the Falcon, or get you a room in a hotel somewhere.” Ben choked on his drink and buried his face in his hands. He would have face-planted the table, if it didn’t look so gross.   
  
“Can we not talk about this?” He groaned, going back for the drink that was much stronger than the ale.   
  
“Why not? I think this is the best time to discuss what you’re into. I wanna know more about you,” Han said, slouching back in his chair, amused by Ben’s flustered expression. “So what powers your engine, eh? Men? Women? Droids? Sentient Squids?”   
  
“You’re pretty open minded,” Ben said, glaring at Chewie who was sniggering to himself. It was bad enough that his father was harassing him.   
  
“I’ve been around the galaxy, kiddo. I’m not one to judge.” Han shrugged. He could have made a list of the different races he had slept with over the course of his lifetime. “Though with that said I might have to judge you if you’re into Wookiees.” Chewie scowled at Han, who just laughed. They were way too hairy for his tastes. Ben’s mind wandered to Hux, the only person he had ever been with intimately. But it was just sex. Nothing more. Still, even if it was just a carnal relationship, it was the closest he had ever been to another living being, and for that reason alone, it made his heart pound just that little bit harder.   
  
“Who you thinking about?” Han asked, snapping Ben out of his thoughts. “Did you used to have someone?”   
  
“No.”  
  
“Come on, you can tell me and Chewie,” Han insisted, lightly punching his son in the shoulder. He could tell from his son’s reaction that he was lying. It would have been a nice notion to know if he son did indeed have someone back then, to know that he wasn’t entirely alone during the darker part of his life.   
  
“Maybe.” Ben then said, figuring that it was the drink that had lowered his guard enough to admit just that. “But you wouldn’t approve.” Of course he wouldn’t. Ben had been fucking the man who had overseen the building work for Starkiller base, the one who had been the voice to command the destruction of the Republic. If there was anyone as evil in the galaxy as Kylo Ren, it was _him._  
  
“Did you have feelings for them?”  
  
“No, it was just physical.” Even with that said, Ben couldn’t even imagine doing those kinds of things with anyone other than the First Order General. They were equals. Both had the same blood on their hands. The same trail of destruction left in their wake.   
  
“Well I guess I don’t need to give you the talk then,” the smuggler joked, right as Ben crushed the metal cup in his hand. He scowled at his father, enough to tell Han to back off the subject, especially as it had started to beep a warning on his bangle. His feelings for Hux (or lack thereof) were still a mystery to him, one that he needn’t share with his father. He didn’t need the lecture on his bad taste anytime soon, or his masochistic bedroom habits.    
  
“Alright, alright, we’ll talk about something else. Chewie, mind getting us another round?” Han motioned at his now empty cup. The Wookiee nodded and got up. “Get a non-spiced ale for Ben this time. I think if his face goes any redder, he’s going to look like that bloody saber.”   
  
“Do you mind?” Ben narrowed his eyes, now extremely self-conscious. The Wookiee disappeared into the mob briefly, before returning with another tray, hobbling sorta awkwardly like he really needed to–   
  
“Chewie you’re a big boy now, I’m sure you can visit the little Wookiee’s room without a chaperone,” Han sighed. Chewie argued fanatically, reminding Han of the time that Selonian came at him with a pair of shears demanding to know what was under all that hair. “Alright, I’ll go with you. Calm down. Next time maybe think twice before you down so much liquid in one go.” He scraped the chair against the floor as he stood up.  
  
“That seriously happened?” Ben couldn’t help but ask. Chewie nodded, looking traumatised by the memory.   
  
“I’ll be back in a moment, don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone,” Han advised, heading off with the dancing Wookiee.   
  
“I don’t plan on,” Ben said, holding up his hands. With nothing else to do, Ben picked up his drink and tasted it. This one he liked. It wasn’t long before he had downed half the contents. That was when everything started to feel funny. His vision began to sway, and he lost feeling in his fingers. His grip failed and the cup slipped from his grasp. It sounded dull and heavy when it clattered against the ground. Ben grabbed his head, fighting to stay conscious. He must have blacked out a little, because when he then opened his eyes, there was a bunch of thugs in front of him. The next thing he knew, he was being hauled out of his seat and dragged through the Cantina with little strength in his muscles to fight back.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look I'm back, again! Turns out there was more shit wrong with my laptop that they didn't notice first time. #morons

“See, nothing happened to you,” Han said, patting his best friend on the back. It was about time he got over his fear of public toilets. Besides, even if something did happen, Chewie was a fully grown Wookiee that could most certainly take care of himself. Chewie just shrugged, just because he was in the all clear this time, didn’t mean someone wouldn’t come at him with a giant pair of scissors next time. If it happened anywhere else, he wouldn’t have hesitated to break some arms, but the bathroom was meant to be a safe zone, where he could let his guard down, where he could take a dump in peace.  
  
“This was our table right?” Han stopped in his tracks with a frown, seeing nothing but an empty space of furniture. Ben had vanished. “Don’t tell me he’s run off.” He had trusted him. He had left him alone because he _trusted_ him. How could he do this? Han growled under his breath and raked his fingers through his grey hair. It had lost its colour early, probably due to the amount of stress he had piled on after becoming a father. He kicked the chair leg of the seat Ben had sat on, cursing in as many languages as he could muster, until he was stopped by Chewie.  
  
“What?” He snapped, immediately regretting the action. Chewie pointed towards the table, to where a small slip of paper had made its way underneath a cup. Han blinked. He then pulled the slip of paper out, recognising the messy scrawl immediately. After all, he had signed a contract to broker a deal with this particular agent of the Guavian Death Gang.  
  
_Han Solo._  
_We took your comrade._  
_Meet me in the alley in twenty minutes, or he dies._

“Bala-Tik,” Han hissed, crushing the piece of paper in his hand. Looked like that kriffing dirtball managed to survive the Rathtar attack. Han couldn’t tell if he liked this turn of events more, or less than the idea of Ben running off. This was the exact kind of shit that Han didn’t want to happen when it came to having a kid, to have his son dragged into his messes, to pay for his mistakes. It was one thing to attack him directly, but to attack someone he loved was an entirely different thing.  
  
“Come on, Chewie. Let’s go and shoot some scumbags.”

It didn’t take long for Han and Chewie to locate the alleyway in question, Han had a feeling it would be the one that he first made a deal with the gang. Bala-Tik stood centre, between a bunch of his red-clad men hidden behind masks and behind Ben, holding the younger Solo up by his cuffed wrists. Han gritted his teeth when he saw how out of it his son was, unsteady on his feet with his head lulled down, and hair hanging over his face.  
  
“I didn’t think you’d show your face Han Solo,” Bala-Tik remarked, signalling for his men to point there blasters. “Unless it’s for your furry companion over there, I’ve never known you to stick your neck out for anyone.” The smuggler was notorious for losing his crew to dangerous expeditions, sacrificing people to save his own skin when things went wrong. And they _always_ went wrong. The aim was to drug all three of them, but that blasted Solo and hairy carpet had to go off to the bathroom before they could touch their drinks, so they had to make do with the extra.  
  
“What do you want Bala-Tik?” Han scowled. It was easy to be cocky when it was just his life at risk. “If this about the money, you can tell your leader that I’ll get it.”  
  
“It’s no longer about the money Solo. It’s about principle. We lost five good men aboard that freighter of yours. What we want now; is revenge.” Bala-Tik said.  
  
“How about you give me back my friend and we’ll talk. Maybe we can come to some kind of deal? I could always double your investment, I’m good at making money.” Han said, unable to hold up the same amount of confidence in his voice that he usually could. He couldn’t take his eyes off Ben, afraid that if he looked away for a moment, he’d be killed. What the hell had they done to him?    
  
“And let you swindle us again?” Bala-Tik let out a bitter laugh.  
  
“Just let the kid go, it’s me you want, not him,” Han said, figuring that maybe it was a bad idea to act so sentimental. He just couldn’t help it, it was hard to fight his parental instincts.  
  
“Are you offering a trade?” The gang agent cocked his head to the side. This was taking a turn for the more interesting.  
  
“Yes. Just let my son go,” Han beseeched.  
  
“Your _son_?” Bala-Tik couldn’t help but grin. “I never knew you had a son, Solo. Do you hear that men? We have here the son of the infamous Han Solo.”  
  
“Now please, release him.”  
  
“Why would we do that? When we can have the satisfaction of killing you twice,” Bala-Tik smirked, pulling out a knife and stabbing it into Ben’s shoulder. Fire erupted from the wound, which was all it took to re-ignite Ben’s senses and highlight his focus. Pain was an awfully good stimulator. Ben threw his head back into Bala-Tik’s nose, breaking it upon contact, forcing blood to pour from his nostrils. The man hissed as he stumbled back, losing his grip on Ben who instantaneously span around to give Han a perfect shot of his cuffs. Han reacted immediately, firing his blaster at the restraints, breaking free the hold they had on his son. Before the red-clad members could pull the triggers on their weapons, they were torn from their grasps by an invisible strength, controlled by Ben’s outstretched hand. That was when Han and Chewie started to fire. One by one the Guavian Death Gang members fell, half from blaster wounds and half from being thrown by a brute force. Soon enough there was just one left alive. Bala-Tik scrambled across the floor in panic as Ben marched towards him. Before he could even beg for his life, he felt something latch around his throat and drag him into the air.  
  
“You see, there is one thing you should know about my son,” Han said, stepping forward till he was side-by-side with Ben. “He’s a Solo _and_ a Skywalker. He’s more badass than either you or I could ever hope to be, and that’s saying something coz I think I’m plenty badass.” As if to just spite his words, Bala-Tik suddenly dropped to the ground as Ben darted towards the nearest trash can to not-so-badass-ly vomit into. Han just took the reaction in his stride, like it was supposed to happen, and instead pointed his blaster right in the gang agent’s face. Bala-Tik held up his quivering hands, a gesture for mercy.  
  
“You come near me or my son again, and I will kill you,” Han warned, retracting his weapon.                
  
“Y-You have my word,” he said, picking himself up off the floor and backing up into a pile of boxes. He then turned around and bolted. After re-holstering his weapon, Han turned towards his son who was still throwing his guts up into the trash. Chewie was stood behind him, gently rubbing his back.  
  
“I’m sure I specifically told you to not get into any trouble,” Han grinned, trying to make light of the situation, mainly to calm his own nerves. Ben shot back a glare. It lasted as long as it took for his stomach to prepare the next round. “Though seriously, are you alright?”  
  
“Next time we go drinking, I’m choosing the place,” Ben said, supressing a groan. It was starting to make a habit of getting drugged and injured around his father. Things were never this bad when he was Kylo Ren, which was ironic, considering he had been in far more dangerous situations. Maybe the universe was finally getting down to punishing him for his mistakes.  
  
“How about we get back to the Falcon and get you patched up, eh?” Han suggested, a little worried about the steadily bleeding wound in his son’s shoulder. “Do you need Chewie to carry you?”  
  
“And ruin my badass image?” Ben grinned. “I can walk.”  
              

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little behind schedule now from taking a break and excessively gaming. Anyone here play Monster Hunter World on ps4? It's freakin epic.


	6. Chapter 6

This was the second time Han Solo had escaped from him, cheated his execution. The joke had gotten old the first time. Bala-Tik wiped the blood from his nose with a dirtied sleeve and slumped against the wall. So that was what Kylo Ren looked like underneath the mask? Just a kid. Not just any kid, the kid of Han Solo. Who would have thought the old war hero would help bear a son who would not only turn against him, but do so in the worst manner possible, by trying to take over the entire galaxy through death and destruction. Still, he may have just been a kid, but that raw power, that was something else entirely. Bala-Tik had never seen the power of the Force up close before. It chilled him to his very core. It was no wonder the First Order was out looking for him, to get back that weapon, or maybe to even destroy it, before it could be used against them.  
  
The gang agent pulled out his coms system and held it up against his lips.  
  
“Inform the First Order that I’ve located their missing Commander. He’s on Corellia, in Coronet City, aboard the Millennium Falcon.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

“How long is it going to take for these side effects to wear off?” Ben groaned, looking up at the ceiling of his bunk, wishing it wasn’t so bright. Even the smallest light in the room burnt his corneas and made his head split open. He had been throwing up nearly every ten minutes for the last few hours, without even a shred of break. It had gotten to the point where Han had just dumped a bucket on the floor beside him, so he didn’t have to keep dashing towards the bathroom. Especially as a dash for him right now, involved a lot of bashing into objects, elbowing doorframes and generally stumbling about.  
  
“Another hour for the vomiting and probably about forty-eight for the rest of it,” Han replied from across the room, keeping his son company. That Guavian Death Gang really liked to use potent stuff, he gave them that at least. “Your shoulder ok?”  
  
“It’s fine,” Ben said, ghosting his hand over the rather superficial wound. It stung a little, but would heal up in no time. At this point, all Ben wanted to do, was to go to sleep. The drug should have knocked him clean out to start with, if he had drunk the full cups worth. Still, it was best that he hadn’t, simply so he could have saved his nerf-herder of a father’s life. Stupid laserbrain shouldn’t be so willing to sacrifice himself for his sake.

  
On cue, Ben felt his stomach lurch. He sat up and emptied what little content he had left into the bucket, wishing that this torture would just end. It was mainly just water now, which Han was forcing him to drink, of course. Once he was sure the current phase was over, Ben reached for the glass at his side and slowly sipped on the clear liquid, which at least soothed his burning throat. After that, he lay back down. It felt like he had spent more time in bed in the last few weeks than he had in the last few years.    
  
“I know you still don’t trust me, not fully,” Ben uttered, fiddling with his necklace again. It was becoming a habit, a non-destructive one for a change. It was just nice to have something physical, that he could touch, to remind him of his parents, and the faith they had put in him.  
  
“Ben I–"  
  
“It’s ok. I understand. I wouldn’t trust me either,” he sighed. Actions speak louder than words after all, and so far Ben had done very little in winning over his father’s undivided trust. “But for what it’s worth, I never once thought about running away.”  
  
“I’m glad to hear that.” Han should have known by now there was no use in trying to keep secret his insecurities. Besides, now that he thought about it, it was just catering to exactly what Snoke wanted; for Ben to see the truth, to hear what people truly thought, to remind him of why he turned in the first place, to try and convince him that no matter how much he tries now, he’ll always be a dark outcast. Han had to stay positive, it was the only way.  
  
By the time Han had finished pondering his thoughts, Ben had managed to doze off. It was about time, the poor kid really was pretty averse to all those toxins. Once he was sure that Ben was out cold, Han stood up and tiptoed his way over. Ben looked fairly peaceful right now, but it was early, before any nightmares could have chance to haunt him. He brushed back the dark locks from Ben’s forehead and pressed a light kiss there. His son would probably have punched him for that, if he were at least somewhat conscious. It was worth the risk though. Hopefully, it would be the first of many stealthy kisses to come.  
  
“I hope you feel better soon, Ben,” Han whispered, doing the extra fatherly thing of tucking his ridiculously tall son in. He definitely remembered that being easier. After that he turned off the lights and headed back to the communal area, having promised Chewie a game of Dejarik that he was one-hundred percent sure was rigged. Let the Wookiee win, he had always said.  
  
  
_“Sabers at the ready,” Luke Skywalker instructed. He stood ruler straight with his arms pressed against his back as he took in the two apprentices before him. To the right was Barak Cabaril, a thirteen-year-old human that Luke had picked up on Coruscant, from a noble family who had sought him out after realising their son’s sensitivity to the Force. He was quite the cocky kind of kid, but tended to listen well and was a fast learner. To his left was his own nephew, Ben Solo, the son of his dearest twin sister Leia Organa and her spacer pilot husband, Han Solo. Luke had been training him for the last few years and things had gotten steadily worse over time.  
  
Ben had been tough to teach, to say the least. Power was not the issue, Luke had never seen someone with such raw potential before; which was no surprise given his heritage. Ben was by far the apprentice under his guidance with the most potential with the Force. What he lacked was focus and discipline. Ben was always quick to act, passionate with his feelings and simply just a walking hazard. Luke had been patient nonetheless. Even with the ever growing fear that Ben was simply unteachable, at least by the ways of the Jedi.  
  
Ben Solo ignited his bright blue saber and loosened his wrist, his opponent doing the same. Sparring with his saber was about the only thing Ben believed he could actually do well. Sure he was good with the Force, he could crumble walls with a push, bring down ceilings at will and force huge boulders to move on command. But when it came to levitating a simple stone, he just couldn’t quite manage it. It would always end darting through the air like a blaster bolt, or exploding. He was awful at meditating, too, he could never switch his brain off. Whenever he tried, even the most silent of rooms seemed loud to him. He would hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears, he would hear water dripping two rooms down, and there would always be this voice in his head. Some snake like whisper that would taunt him, blacken his thoughts and turn him against himself. He knew he should have probably told Luke about it, but he didn’t want to. The voice _ understood _him. It was the only thing that did.  
  
“You may begin,” Luke said, dipping his head. Ben was first to move, as Luke expected. He rushed towards the other boy and violently swung his saber. Ben was never one for the defensive. He was a lot like his father in that respect. Blue clashed violently with green. For a moment the colours remained locked together, until Ben forced his weight forwards. Barak stumbled backwards and almost lost his footing trying to defend the heavy oncoming blows.  
  
“Ben,” Luke warned, prepared to step in if Ben refused to listen. Ben gritted his teeth and backed up, allowing the boy in front of him to collect his bearings. The point of this exercise wasn’t to try and maim his opponent after all. It was teach the younger apprentices how to duel properly. The young Solo took a few steps back and swung his saber around in a circular motion to keep the muscles going, trying to ignore all the faces in the crowd. None of them liked him. He had no friends. They were all scared of him, scared of his _ accidents. _Ben didn’t want to hurt the other apprentices, well sometimes he did, sometimes he wanted them to understand how much is hurt to be him. But those feelings tended to pass. Mostly. Although recently they had lasted long past his initial rage. The voice had told him that these feelings were normal for one as powerful as himself and that Luke was wrong for scolding him for them.  
  
Ben and Barak took stance once more, Barak donning an irritated scowl that he tended to unleash when put against Ben. Luke had noticed the growing tension between the two recently and had decided to allow them to let off some steam in the form of a regulated duel. It was better that than risking an actual fight. Last time that happened, Ben had thrown the other boy over twenty feet in the air and into a solid tree.  
  
“Begin,” Luke announced. Once again Ben bolted forwards and lightsabers crashed together, and like a choreographed duel, they pirouetted around each other, slashing and swinging. Luke was impressed by their skill. Ben was strong, favouring aggressive heavy attacks over speed and agility. That was not to say that Ben wasn’t graceful in his movements, in fact, it was quite the opposite. At least when he was composed. Once Ben started to lose control, his attacks became wild and unpredictable, which indeed made him far more dangerous, but also left him open and vulnerable to damage. Despite being taller and somewhat broader, Barak preferred to be quick on his feet and wait for openings – which gave him a significant disadvantage against a focused Ben, but a stark advantage over an enraged Ben. The young Solo pushed forward, swiping his saber horizontal through the air. Barak jumped back and stabbed green forward, singing a line on Ben’s sleeve, leaving a small red cut. Ben growled but didn’t retreat like his should of, like he was taught to. Instead he charged towards the smug grin in front of him. Having expected such a reaction from Ben, Barak upped his defence and caught the barrage of attacks, till they were once again locked in motion.  
  
“What ya gonna do, freak?” Barak uttered, too quiet for their Master to hear. Ben’s grip on his saber tightened along with his jaw. He lost focus briefly, agitated by the cutting nickname. It was just enough time for Barak to duck out of the hold and bash his shoulder into Ben’s to knock him to the floor. Ben thumped the ground with a fist and scowled at his opponent who was already mid gloat.  
  
“You cheated,” Ben hissed, before Luke could acknowledge the victor.  
  
“No, you just let your emotions cloud your judgement, as usual,” Barak said. “I guess the Skywalker genes got lost on you. But then again you are half smuggler scumbag.” Ben saw red, and once again felt that presence within his mind.  
_  
“They will never understand you, Ben. No one but me will ever understand you. Teach him a lesson. Show the boy how powerful you are. You _are_ a Skywalker. You are the most powerful Skywalker to ever walk the Galaxy.” _Ben growled and held out his hand, but his lightsaber remained attached to his side.  
_  
“Do it, Ben. Make me _proud._ ” _Instinct took over, and before Ben even comprehended what was going on, he had Barak locked in a chokehold, floating above the ground and clawing mercilessly against his throat. Luke was stunned. For a moment he felt true fear. For a moment, he didn’t see Ben on the ground. For just a brief moment, he saw a flash of Vader. And that was enough to unsettle him to his very core.  
  
“Ben!” Luke suddenly snapped, his eyes wide. He grabbed his nephew’s wrist and yanked him up, breaking his focus with Barak. The other boy fell to the floor, spluttering. The rest of his apprentices stood with their mouths agape, eyes filled with horror. No longer could Luke turn a blind eye. No longer could he pretend that he could somehow purge the darkness from his nephew. No longer could he not see him as a threat. Luke would not allow another Darth Vader in the Galaxy. He would not have that blood on his hands.  
  
  
Luke dragged him towards his hut, the one furthest from the other apprentices, but closest to Luke’s own. Ben didn’t even process the idea of struggling. Never before had he seen Luke livid, his grip so tight that it hurt. He didn’t even think it were possible, to break his uncle’s composure. Luke used the Force to open the door and pulled him inside. Then he let go and without a word headed towards the entrance. He paused in the doorway and looked back at his nephew, hiding his pained expression behind a mask of impassiveness. Ben stared back at him for a moment, reminding Luke of something important. He was just a child.  
  
“Uncle Luke?” Ben uttered, a wave of fear washing over him. Luke remained silent. Then he left, locking the door closed behind him. He needed to think. He needed to meditate over this. Before he could do anything rash, anything he’d regret. After all, Ben Solo wasn’t just a kid, he was his sister’s son, and Luke loved him.  
  
  
Ben stood glued to the spot for countable minutes after Luke left, doing nothing but stare at the door. What had he done? He didn’t mean to…he was just so angry. He had disappointed Luke. He had disappointed his mother. He had disappointed his father. Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like he had even spoken to them in months. Ben sat himself down on his bed, placing the silver hilt of his lightsaber on his nightstand.  
_  
“You did well, Ben.”  
_  
“No I didn’t.” The young Solo shook his head, not wanting to listen to this intrusive voice that has just gotten him into serious trouble. This was not what he wanted.  
_  
“You know you don’t fit in here Ben. I can show you something better, a place where you can be you. A place where you can change the Galaxy, where you will be important. Where you can prove to everyone that you are strong. What Luke sees as faults, I see as potential.”  
_  
“Leave me alone,” Ben pressed his hands over his ears, a gesture that he knew deep down would make no difference. This voice was penetrating, emanating deep within his mind where there was no off switch.  
_  
“Luke fears you. Right now he plots against you. He plots to kill you. He’s afraid of your power, of what you can do.”  
_  
“You lie.” He shook his head again.  
_  
“You shall see the truth soon enough, young one.” _Ben forcefully lay down and pulled his knees up to his chest. There was no way Luke would ever try and kill him. Not Luke. Luke was good. But then again, Luke never stuck up for him, not really. He was always such a fence, watching Ben get berated. All he would do was sit down with them all and tell them that what they were doing was wrong. That was it. It didn’t stop anything, didn’t stop Ben from suffering. But Jedi’s weren’t exactly known for their ability to keep the peace, no matter how much they claimed it was their duty. Ben didn’t want to believe the voice, but a lot of what it was saying was true. Ben didn’t fit in. He never would. There was so much expectation on his shoulders, his whole family were legends. He was just a problem. Ben eventually fell asleep to the view of a gently burning candle.  
  
  
It was well past midnight when Luke ventured back into Ben’s chambers. He quietly unlocked the door and stepped into the darkness. As expected, Ben was asleep. Without even breathing, he approached the bed and looked over the much smaller figure curled up on his side. He could feel something else. A dark presence. Something that loomed over Ben like an unwanted shadow. Vader? Luke’s fingers ghosted over the hilt of his saber. Luke didn’t want to believe in what he saw, what he _ felt. _But it was real. Ben Solo was the embodiment of the infamous Darth Vader. The Darkness had been growing in him since the beginning, only getting more and more powerful as time passed. Luke was afraid. Afraid of what Ben would become. All Luke could see in his nephew’s future was death and destruction.  
  
It was a moment of weakness that had Luke grasp hold of his saber and ignite it, a moment he would regret for the rest of his life and beyond. Ben awoke with the sound, and before Luke could retract his weapon, and his mistake, he saw it: Fear. Ben was terrified. Completely and totally_ terrified. _How could he ever consider killing his own nephew? The boy he swore to protect. Luke wanted to open his mouth, wanted to apologise, but before he could, Ben grabbed hold of his weapon and ignited it. The walls began to crumble around him and the ceiling caved in. The raw power of Ben Solo had been unleashed in fear, and it was all his fault._

 _  
Frozen in his own realisation and weakness, Luke made no attempt to protect himself from the falling rubble that rapidly buried him. Ben quaked in a mixture of fear and fury. He couldn’t breathe. Luke was going to kill him in his sleep. The voice was right.  
  
“I’m so sorry Ben…please forgive my weakness…” Luke just about managed to choke out. He couldn’t move.  
  
“You…I trusted you.” Ben uttered with the last of his innocence. “You betrayed me.” What was left of Ben Solo suddenly disappeared behind an apathetic mask, replaced by an aggressive determination. Luke wouldn’t get away with this. His whole family had betrayed him. His parents had thrown him away, and Luke had thought him nothing but a monster. It was time to bring life into that notion. Luke, Leia, Han, they were all dead to him now. It was time for a new Ben Solo.  
_  
“Use your anger Ben Solo. Take your revenge and join me.”  
_  
“What do you want me to do?” Ben questioned, resolute.  
_  
“Kill all the apprentices, spare only those who are willing to give themselves to me.”  
  
_Ben nodded and ignited his saber once more, the last time it would ever glow blue. He headed out, ignoring the pleas of Luke Skywalker._  
  
  
_He felt nothing as he drove his saber through apprentice after apprentice. He felt nothing when he heard them scream in fear and agony. He felt nothing when he watched the light die in their eyes. Most stood against him, a futile attempt to fight back. But Ben felt stronger than ever, flowing with the Dark Side. It was like fire in his veins, igniting his abilities. It was always part of him. The difference now, was that he was wielding it with no hesitance._  
  
_But he did hesitate. Once. She was just a little girl, no older than four. She was new, only been here a few weeks. By far the youngest apprentice that Luke had under his teachings. Despite her age, she had looked him in the eyes, defiant. Even when the blue began to spit at her skin, burning her cheek red. Ben couldn’t do it. He didn’t know why, he just couldn’t. So he turned away, leaving the little girl in the corner. A mistake he would make again. Few of Luke’s apprentices were willing to denounce his teachings. But for those who did, (mostly those with little Force connection) followed their new leader into their new titles, to become the Knights of Ren._  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Back I guess. Sorry it's been forever. I didn't have a laptop for over a month and then got really busy and fell into other fandoms so poor Star Wars took a backseat. But anyways I'm gonna upload everything I currently have for this fic and hopefully finish off writing the rest. Sorry again guys. I'm so awful at keeping up to date with things.

Ben had barely slept since he dreamt about the massacre. Although those images failed to haunt him at the time, they now tortured him every waking and non-waking second. Snoke was determined to make him feel desolate, forcing him into reliving the darkest parts of his life. The day of the slaughter was just the start of the reign of Kylo Ren, the path only getting bloodier and blacker. Ben stared down at his breakfast, not really feeling much of an appetite. It had been two days since he had last thrown up, but that didn’t stop him from feeling any less sick.  
  
“You alright, kid?” Han asked, munching on his fruity nutrition bar. Ben had been troublingly quiet over the last two days.  
  
“Just tired,” Ben answered, pushing away his untouched plate. Chewie made an immediate grab for it, and after a nod of granted permission from Ben, began to clear it.  
  
“Understatement of the century. You look exhausted,” Han commented, getting up to walk towards his coffee machine. He made one for himself and one for Ben with an abhorrent amount of caffeine in. Ben had gotten quite addicted to the stuff recently, and Han didn’t dare take it away from him (mainly as it was probably the sole thing keeping him somewhat functioning). When the mug was filled to the brim and steaming with the strong smelling brown liquid, he placed it in front of Ben.  
  
“Thanks,” he muttered, wrapping his hands around the heated ceramic, ignoring the blistering fire against his fingertips as he brought it to his lips. He needed to stay awake. Even it meant drinking this quite frankly, disgusting drink.  
  
“We should be landing on Lothal today,” Han said, perching himself back in his seat, opposite his son. He grimaced as he watched him down the entire contents of the drink in one go. Ben just grunted in response. Talking took energy, (which he was in severely short supply of) so until the caffeine kicked in, he was going to conserve it.  


“Is it me or are we taking another detour?” Ben commented, having stolen Chewie’s seat in the cockpit under the notion that it was more comfortable than the guest seats. The Wookiee was forced to linger behind him. He didn’t all that mind. He just wished that Ben would sit properly, instead of slouching sideways with his one leg kicked over the side. For some reason, Han had manually flown them towards a nearby asteroid field, instead of taking the smooth route to the planet.  
  
“Caffeine kicked in yet?” Han questioned, swivelling on his seat to face Ben.  
  
“Yes. Why?” Ben furrowed his eyebrows a little. Han had that look on his face, the look that said he was planning something.  
  
“How about another lesson? Thought you might like to try fly through this asteroid field,” Han said, vaguely gesturing outside the viewport. If there was one thing you needed to be able to do as a smuggler, it was navigating your way through places like these at high speed. They made a great escape route. Smuggling wasn’t always clean cut, sometimes you had to make a quick getaway with freighters on your tail and what better than an asteroid field? Most of the time other pilots wouldn’t dare to enter (if they had sense) or those who did, would ultimately find themselves face to face with a giant space rock. Training was key.  
  
“I’m not really in the mood,” Ben replied, holding back a sigh. He was one hundred percent sure he wasn’t focused enough for a task such as this. Plus, the Falcon was a much bigger ship than he was used to handling, and with all the outdated controls, (that had like thirty buttons to do what a modern ship could do in one) with the pressure of not crashing, well, it was just too much for him right now.  
  
“Come on Ben, I thought it would be a nice bonding activity for us,” Han urged. “I’m not sure how often we’ll get an opportunity like this.”  
  
“There are plenty of asteroid fields across the entire galaxy,” Ben deadpanned, crossing his arms. He could crash them into any one of them, just not today.  
  
“That’s not what I meant,” the smuggler shook his head. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how much time they would get to spend together, just the two (three) of them. As much as Han wanted to take Ben and run across the galaxy, far away from the war, far away from everything, he knew that it would eventually catch up to him. He couldn’t run away from it himself, and he was just an old crook whose time had been and gone. Ben was a centre piece, a Queen on a chessboard. Han wanted to spend every second they had together to the absolute fullest, pack all the years he had missed into one trip, or at least try to.  
  
“Urgghhh, do you have any idea how loud and irritating your thoughts are?” Ben frowned. How was he supposed to ignore that guilt trip? He didn’t need any more of that cruel sentiment that was already weighing down on him from Snoke’s second little gift. “Fine. I’ll do it.”  
  
“That’s my boy,” Han chuckled, moving out of his seat and signalling for his son to take it. Ben moved over, dramatising the action with a huff. It was best to just get this over with already. He took hold of the controls and made an attempt to press a button, only to have Han grunt behind him, and continue to grunt until Ben’s hand hovered over the correct switch.  
  
  
Things went smoothly for a while. The asteroid clusters were fairly far apart which made steering easy enough, even with this heap of junk, but things took a turn when Han goaded him into the denser area which gave very little margin for error.  
  
“Do you think that maybe you can pick up speed? I think even C-3PO would fly faster than this,” Han said. He was pretty sure he had seen the same asteroids in his field of vision for the last twenty minutes.  
  
“I’m not sure protocol droids are even programmed with technology this ancient anymore,” Ben retorted. He much preferred his modified TIE Fighter, at least that thing was smaller, easily controlled and had great manoeuvrability. “What do you want me to do? Jump into lightspeed and scatter both us and these space rocks across another system?”  
  
“Of course not, that would be suicide.” Han frowned. He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering towards their time in the cavern. When Ben was at his lowest and more than considered the idea that maybe life just wasn’t worth living. It was a vivid reminder of how he had ultimately failed as a parent.  
  
“It was a moment of weakness Han Solo; can’t you just forget about that?” Ben’s grip tightened on the control yoke as he caught wind of his father’s thoughts. He was so caught up with listening to Han’s that he didn’t even pay heed to Chewie’s incoming warnings, or the sound of his bangle telling him that his heartrate was increasing rapidly.  
  
“How am I supposed to forget that my only son thought about killing himself over being stuck in a cave with me?” Han snapped, right as something large collided with the side of the Falcon. The whole ship quaked violently. Han lost his footing and fell against the console, swearing in Huttese while Chewie and Ben just about managed to stay seated. The warning system bathed the cockpit in red as the flashing symbols on the console told Han that something important was in dire need of repairs.  
  
“See. I knew this would be a bad kriffing idea,” Ben growled, vaulting out the seat so fast he left it shuddering. He kicked something on his way out of the cockpit and just stormed down the corridor. Han was tempted to call after him, but decided against it. Sure, he was pissed, but he could guarantee that Ben was more pissed. It was still early days for his son and his anger management, so if he was heading to his cooldown area, that was good enough. Chewie was already at the controls, giving Han a rundown of what was broken.  
  
“Guess we’re gonna have to make an emergency landing,” Han sighed, thankful that it wasn’t going to be a crash landing. It seemed the damage was significant but not disastrous. They just didn’t have time to be picky about where they landed, as long as it was solid ground. Even if that meant landing in the forests of Lothal.  
  



	9. Chapter 9

It was a bumpy landing to say the least, but Han and Chewie managed it, having only taken down a _few_ trees in the process. But still, things could have been so much worse, like if something exploded or something. By the looks of things, everything was still attached to the ship, just kinda, sorta, maybe damaged a fair bit. Nevertheless, if there was one thing Han loved about the Falcon, it was her ability to take a hit. This old girl had been through so much and was still flying strong, just like Han was himself. He liked to think of himself as an old freighter sometimes, still fully functioning on the inside, just a little (or a lot, according to Leia) shabby looking on the outside.   
  
Once the ship was full stabilised on the ground, Han and Chewie went to check out the damages. It was windy out, and thus the spine trees were rustling loudly. Han could only hope that there wasn’t anything dangerous lurking behind them. As expected, they were in dire need of some new parts if the Falcon was to see space again.   
  
“Gotta love kids, eh Chewie? Always costing us money,” Han sighed, wafting away the smoke that had blasted out as he took off one of the panels. Stuff was very much fried. Chewie made a comment while noting down all the parts needing replaced on notepad. “Yeah I know I shouldn’t really blame him. I did kinda push him into this and I know the Falcon can be pretty hard to fly if you don’t know how.” He let out another sigh. He had blamed Ben for too much in the past. Apparently, it was the kid’s fault that he had a temper, and that it was his fault when he acted out, when in truth Han had made very little attempt in trying to help him, to teach him new ways to vent. He couldn’t think of one time he had sat down with Ben and tried to get to the bottom of what was bothering him. All he did was hold up a pillow and let him punch it, if he hadn’t already yelled at him to go to his room. Sure, Ben’s actions were Ben’s actions, but that shouldn’t mean he shouldn’t take at least some of the responsibility. It was Han and Leia’s job to teach Ben right from wrong and to make sure he stayed on the right path. His failure was their failure.   
  
“Right, I’m gonna check the sensors to see how far away we are from the nearest town or city, hopefully it’s the latter.” Han said as he headed back into the Falcon. “Let me know when you’ve noted down everything we need.”   
  
It turned out they were in luck, only a few days out from the main city. Still, that did mean a nice long hike through a predator infested forest, but with both his blaster and Chewie’s bowcaster and Ben’s Force manipulation, he reckoned they’d survive. That was of course, if Ben wanted to come. After what had happened, Han wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to stay behind. But still…a camping trip with his son would have been pretty nice. It was a bucket list idea that he had never managed to tick off, like most things.   
  
Han headed down to the cargo hold and waited outside patiently. With his back against the wall and his arms folded, he listened to Ben yell some pretty colourful profanities as he slammed fist after fist into the punching bag. Since when did Ben learn to speak Mando’a? Impressive.   
  
As much as he wanted to barge in there, he had promised Ben that unless it was a serious emergency, he’d stay out of his way. Although their ship was in need of repair, it wasn’t about to blow up, so it wasn’t exactly a crisis. After a few minutes the noises stopped, and all went silent in the room. Han figured than Ben had probably sensed him lingering outside by this point. Hopefully the whole mind reading thing didn’t work through solid walls.   
  
“You can enter,” Ben called out, proving Han correct. The smuggler headed into the room to see Ben perched on the edge of his seat, hunched over with his head in his hands, having barely broken a sweat. He knew someone like him would have a lot of stamina, but wow. Also, the superb durability of that punching bag was definitely worth the extra credits. It wasn’t often that Han splashed out for the best in the market items.   
  
An apology was the first thing to come out of Ben’s mouth, much to Han’s surprise. It seemed they were seriously making good progress on their relationship and Ben’s stubbornness.   
  
“Yeah I’m sorry, too, kid.” Han replied, leaning against the doorframe. “If it makes you feel any better, the damage wasn’t all that bad. Sure, we gotta buy some new stuff with money we don’t have, but you know me.”  
  
“Planning to swindle some poor folk?” Ben couldn’t help but crack a little grin.   
  
“Damn right, kiddo.” Han said proudly. Considering Ben had expected his father to barge in here and yell at him for damaging his precious ship, he was quite astounded to see that that was not the case. This was actually nice. He just wished Han had been this calm with him back when he was a kid, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out so bad. Han started to scratch the back of his head. “So how about it hothead, wanna go on a little camping trip with your old man? I mean, I won’t force you, you can stay in the ship if you wa–”  
  
“I’ll come.” Ben interrupted, getting to his feet. “Someone has to make sure you and Chewie don’t get eaten by Loth Wolves or Sabercats, wouldn’t want them to choke on Chewie’s hair or your old stringiness.”  
  
“Guess it’s settled then, you’ll be mine and Chewie’s new bodyguard. I’ll let Chewie know he’ll be getting a pay cut,” Han chuckled, ignoring the age-related insult. He was just happy they were ok with one another. It was a shame it had taken Han nearly twenty-five years to figure how to get things to run smoothly between them both. Better late than never though.    
  
  
After collecting all the suitable supplies they needed from every nook and cranny on the ship, the trio headed out into the wilderness. It wasn’t often that Ben got to admire the natural splendour of planets. All the green, all the fauna, all the creation. Fire tended to follow in his wake, turning everything black, cold and lifeless. He didn’t even want to think about all the beautiful places that had existed before Starkiller Base had unleashed its sun-powered weapon and destroyed them. Hux hadn’t even batted an eyelid. Hux could destroy the entire galaxy while drinking a cup of tea and not even for a second feel a touch of guilt. That was where they differed. It was nice to see some of the forests of this planet had begun to grow back after the reign of the Empire. There was always hope. Well…most of the time.   
  
“At least it’s not snowing,” Han commented, lightly bumping his shoulder into his son’s when he noticed the tormented frown on his face. He decided not to ask about it.   
  
“Or cold,” Ben added. If anything, it was a little too hot. It probably didn’t help that he was wearing all black. Chewie must have been sweltering. Though if he was, he didn’t show it.   
  
“You ever been here before, Ben?” Han asked, trying to make conversation, considering Chewie seemed to be off in his own little world a few metres in front of them, pointing his bowcaster at anything that crunched a stick. It seemed he was trying to earn back his title of primary bodyguard.   
  
“Once. I visited the ruins of the old Jedi Temple here, to see if I could learn anything about the Jedi, or Luke.” Ben said. He remembered that day, and his ability to solo lift the spire, which took an awful amount of focus and strength. Snoke had been impressed. “You know they used to use it for the Jedi trials? To test attachment.”  
  
“Attachment?” Han cocked an eyebrow.   
  
“Yeah. A Master would take his Padawan to the Temple for the trail known as the Ordeal. After gaining access to the Temple, the Padawan would split from their Master and head into the tunnels where they would be forced to suffer visions about their attachments, including those of their Master, their friends and even the Jedi Order itself. If the Padawan failed, then both the Master and Apprentice would be buried inside. Forever.”  
  
“Seems a bit extreme,” Han grimaced. This whole Jedi business was often painted in such a white light, when in reality it skewered what it meant to be alive. How could you care if you weren’t permitted to care? He could never be like that himself. He couldn’t imagine a world where he wasn’t permitted to care about his best friend, about his wife, about his own son. Why else would he fight, if not for them? Why else would he want to live in a peaceful world, if not for them?   
  
“I thought so, too.” Ben replied. “I still believe that the Jedi should be eradicated, at least the old order of them. They were oppressive in their teachings and became arrogant and blind. Being passionate, having feelings, attachments and sentiments are vital to truly being good…” Ben’s thoughts trailed back to the dark place, the day he acted on his feelings of resentment over the traditional teachings. “But I…I shouldn’t have acted so literally back then…”  
  
Han swallowed, knowing exactly what Ben was referring to. “Is that why you did it?”  
  
“Partly. Luke was wrong, _is_ wrong. But I shouldn’t have done what I did. I was just angry and hated them all and wanted them to suffer like I had.” He confessed. He had wanted to kill Luke, to raise a new order of Jedi – or some variation. One which allowed passion, allowed pain. Emotions were not a burden. Neither were the people you cared about. “One day I’ll make up for everything I’ve done, or I’ll at least try to. I promise you that.”   
  
“You know I’m going to hold you to that, right?” Han said, looking his son straight in the eyes. Ben was sincere. Truly, deeply, sincere.   
  
“As I expect you to,” Ben replied, smiling a little. Someone had to keep him on the right track after all. He trusted his father, now more than ever. Their moment of bonding was severely interrupted by the sound of Chewie yelling at them to come hurry.   
  
“It seems Chewie has found us a shortcut,” Han uttered.  
  
“I’m pretty sure he said cliff edge,” Ben corrected. Although his Shyriiwook probably wasn’t as sharp as Han’s, he was pretty sure that his hearing was far superior.  
  
“Cliff edge with a bridge,” Han grinned, patting his son on the back before darting off through the trees. Ben shook his head and sighed, then followed the galaxy’s best, worst smuggler.   
  
  
It turned out it was less of cliff edge as it was a gorge.  
  
“I’m not sure that really counts as a bridge anymore,” Ben commented, not at all trusting the flimsy looking thing made of aged wood and seemingly brittle rope. He looked over the precipice towards the rocks below. Not even a stream to catch their fall. Just rocks. Sharp, jagged rocks.   
  
“Scared of heights now, too, are we?” Han teased.   
  
“Of course not. But I’m not the one who will surely die if the bridge snaps,” Ben replied, glad that he inherited his mother’s level of common sense, rather than his father’s. He doubted even the Force would do much good with that deep of a drop. Still, if he was lucky he might be able to survive, but not without breaking a bunch of bones.   
  
“What’s life if you don’t take a couple of risks, eh?” The smuggler shrugged.   
  
“Fine. But if we’re going to do this, then we’re going to do it carefully,” Ben groaned. There was just no stopping his idiot father. Or Chewie apparently. Though according to the Wookiee, his legs were aching from all the walking they had done already, so anything that cut down their journey was worth the risk. “Lightest first.”  
  
“Why are you both looking at me?” Han frowned. “I mean Chewie I get; but come on!”  
  
“It’s called muscle, dad. Something which you’re distinctly lacking in,” Ben snorted. Han wasn’t the one that was required to adhere to a strict training regime every day. The most exercise the smuggler had probably done over the last few years was shoot a blaster, which could be done from the comfort of a chair.   
  
“Alright, I’ll go first, sheesh,” he grumbled, remembering a time where he towered over Ben. Things had changed so much. He carefully made his way over to the edge and tentatively placed a foot on the first step. It seemed steady enough. Surprisingly steady, actually. Without hesitation Han placed his full weight onto the step. Nothing broke. Things were looking good. He turned back and gave both Chewie and Ben the thumbs up, before continuing across the creaking bridge. Ben raked a hand through his hair, just to keep his hands occupied _,_ as he watched his father cross. It was stupid really, how edgy this was making him, even his bangle was beeping alerts. He hadn’t come this far to lose his father in such a dumb, avoidable bridge crossing accident after all. It was weird, to care so much about someone again.   
  
Ben’s shoulders slumped in relief when he saw that his foolish father make it to the other side safely. His relief however was short lived when he felt some serious vibrations shake the ground beneath his feet. He glanced towards his Wookiee uncle, just to see that he too had felt the disturbance and thus had raised his bowcaster towards the row of trees behind them.   
  
“What’s going on over there?” Han yelled from across the giant gap.  
  
“Something is coming,” Ben told Chewie, sensing more than just one presence. One of those somethings suddenly broke out from the forest and charged right at Chewie, its sharp teeth gnashing as it barked. The Wookiee reacted fast, shooting the yellow-furred thing square in its head. It skidded to left and fell onto its side, unmoving.   
  
“Neks.” Ben hissed. More were coming. “Chewie get across the bridge now!” The Wookiee argued, not liking the idea of going before Ben, especially since he was without weapon.   
  
“Don’t argue Chewie. I can hold them off. Trust me.” The second Nek broke out from the foliage and charged, only to be forced to a stop by Ben’s outstretched hand. It was then thrown backwards, straight into a hefty trunk. Ben snapped again at Chewie, who then nodded and headed towards the precipice. Han could only watch in distress as Ben forced beats after beast backwards, only to see each one replaced with two more, quickly tiring the already perpetually exhausted Solo.   
  
Ben zipped to the side as one of the non-sentient creatures darted towards him from his current blind spot. Not making contact with the young Solo it ended up skidding off the edge of the gorge to hit the rocks below. Chewie was two-thirds across the lengthy bridge when the rope started to tear, not able to take the weight of the huge Wookiee.   
  
“Chewie come on!” Han yelled, anxiously waiting at the edge. The Wookiee went to pick up the pace, only to hear something that froze him to the spot. Ben cried in pain as one of the Neks knocked him to the ground. Ben only had a moment to hold up an arm to protect his face as sharp teeth dug into flesh.   
  
“Ben!” Han shouted, feeling utterly helpless. His gaze frantically switched between his child being mauled by a beast and his best friend, just a breath away from falling to his doom. Chewie knew the bridge wouldn’t hold much longer. Chewie knew that every second counted. Chewie knew that once the bridge snapped, the only way there was, was down. The Wookiee turned around regardless. He aimed his bowcaster, knowing full well that the kickback from such a weapon would only end in his fate. But Ben was worth it. Ben was his family. He owed Han his life and what better way to repay that debt than to save his son?   
  
“Chewie, no!” The smuggler cried. The Wookiee pulled the trigger. The red bolt fired. The Nek took the hit and tumbled off of Ben. The rope snapped.    



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have absolutely no excuses sorry. Except maybe Detroit: Become Human.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Ben heard the rope separate and then Chewie shriek. He then reacted on complete instinct. Before he could even think, before he could even get to his feet, he held out his hand and called forth every ounce of energy he had left. The entire bridge came to a sudden halt, firm and unyielding, completely stationary in time. Chewie grabbed hold of the rope handrail to steady himself, feeling even the wooden steps beneath his feet harden like they were now made of unmoveable metal.  
  
“Ben…” Han said under his breath, hardly believing his eyes. He knew his son was powerful, but to see something like this. It was truly mesmerising.  
  
“Chewie, go!” Ben instructed between gritted teeth. The Wookiee didn’t have to be told twice as he ran across the bridge to meet up with a speechless Han at the other side. Once he was certain Chewie was safe, Ben relinquished his hold and let gravity take its course. What was left of the connection was severed as wooden boards clattered against rocks. Ben rolled onto his back and closed his eyes in attempt to stifle his swimming vision and to calm his screaming nerves. At least Chewie was safe. That was all that mattered.  
  
“Ben! Are you alright!?” Han yelled from across the gorge, afraid that his son may have passed out. His fears were quickly sedated when he saw Ben sit up and turn towards him.  
  
“I’ll manage,” Ben called back, nursing his stinging arm. Those Neks had quite the bite on them. Nevertheless, it was still only a flesh wound. He’d be fine. Though it did just have to be his luck that Han was the one carrying most of their supplies. “I guess I’m going to have to find another way around.” This was the last time they were ever going to be taking a shortcut, if Ben had anything to say about it.  
  
  
“We’ll find you, don’t worry Ben.” Han shouted, not at all liking the idea of leaving his son unaided. It wasn’t his ability to defend himself physically that he was worried about. After that current display, Han knew there was nothing to worry about when it came to that aspect. But mentally. Ben was still very fragile. It was unlikely that he’d take to being alone very well. Maybe it was about time that Han stopped living so dangerously, it was that dumb idea that broke their bond and caused this entire mess in the first place. Ben stood up unsteadily and watched as Chewie had to all but drag Han away from the edge and towards the separate set of forest. There was little either of them could do here anymore.  
  
Once Han and Chewie were out of sight, Ben headed back through the trees, avoiding all the strewn Nek bodies, hoping that they were either dead or extremely unconscious. If there was one thing he wasn’t up for, it was another encounter. It became clear to Ben pretty quickly, that he didn’t want to be alone, that he didn’t _like_ being alone. The only thing he could do to distract himself, was to listen to nature. To listen to every step he took, to every snap of a stick, every rustle of the trees; every tweet of a bird. Eventually even that had him on edge. Soon every creak had him flinching and every howl had him tensing. Things got worse when the sun went down, and darkness filtered through the trees, making every shadow come to life. Ben wrapped his arms around himself when the air turned icy. He knew he had to find somewhere to rest soon. As much as he wanted to keep on moving, to find his father, he knew his legs wouldn’t take him much further. He was just so drained. Ben could only run from the darkness for so long.  
  
Once both the moons were high in the sky, Ben decided that he could go no further. He dragged his hands down his face as he tried to figure out his next move. Up. He could go up. Ben looked towards the nearest tree. It was sturdy enough. And tall. It would both give him a great vantage point and keep him safe from any lurking predators. Praising himself on his ingenious idea, Ben stretched out his shoulders and wrists, ready to haul himself up the vertical trunk. With the aid of the Force, Ben became light on his feet, making quick work of jumping from branch to branch while making minimal noise. Soon enough he was near the top, as high as the supportive branches would take him. He perched himself on the securest looking one and allowed himself to relax against the thick bark. His arm stung. He knew he had to at least try and clean it, even if that meant wasting what little water he had on him. He unclipped the canteen from his belt and popped open the lid, only hissing a little when the cold liquid seeped into the raw cuts. Something black oozed its way inside his mind. He knew it would find him eventually. His fingers made their way towards his neck where he pulled out the metal pendants from behind his shirt.  
  
“When did I become this co-dependent?” He sighed, fiddling with the engraved faces of his parents. His thumb brushed over the inscription on the back of the one from his childhood.  
  
_  
Never let anyone tell you the odds to something you can definitely do.  
  
  
_ “I can do this. I can be alone. I can fight the Darkness on my own.” Ben said to himself. It sounded a lot more confident in his head.  
_  
“Do you really believe that, Ren?”  
_  
“I have to, I made a promise,” Ben replied sharply, just to hear the echo of cruel laughter beat against his skull. Of course, Snoke would want to torment him at his most vulnerable.  
_  
“Promises mean nothing. Your father will just run away again. You know this. Han Solo has never in his life been able to stay in one place for very long.”  
_  
“So? This time I’ll go with him,” Ben snapped. Things had changed. His father had changed. He wanted to believe that, he _did_ believe that.  
_  
“But for how long? How long will it take Han Solo to realise what a burden you are? How long till he realises that the darkness of your past will follow you to wherever you may run to? You are tainted Ben Solo. Now and forever. Once he sees this, he will unburden himself.”  
_  
“Shut up!” Ben hissed, thumping a fist against the trunk to his side. Leaves fluttered off branches as the whole tree quaked with his anger.  
_  
“Even now you struggle to contain your wrath. You hurt those around you. You always have, and you always will. You can never be like Han Solo or Leia Organa. There is too much Vader in you.”  
_  
“I said, shut up!” He growled, causing a shockwave. The branch he was sat upon snapped in half. Before he could react, he was falling, slamming into branch after branch. It was almost a blessing that they were there to break his fall, at least until one hit him straight in the head, knocking him clean out before he hit the ground.  
  
  
_The village was burning. Smoke clogged the atmosphere, choking everything in its path. The flametroopers were setting fire to everything, destroying homes, crops and lives. People were screaming, children were running and calling out for their missing parents who would never be found. Kylo Ren marched through the chaos, his lightsaber blistering at his side, being used to cut down the innocents whose only crime were that they were in his way. He couldn’t let their fugitive’s escape. They were Resistance members, ones that held valuable intel on their plans to build a super weapon. The First Order depended on the execution of those who held this valuable data._  
  
_“Round up the villagers, one of them will tell us where they are hiding the criminals,” Kylo demanded, clipping his weapon back onto his belt._  
  
_“Yes, sir.” Captain Phasma gave him a curt nod before doing as instructed. Soon enough the villagers who still breathed were lined up on the knees between fields of flame, each with a Stormtrooper behind them, each with a blaster pointed directly at their head. Some were crying, some were whimpering, but none had made peace with their likely demise. Kylo began to pace the length of villagers, quickly building even more fear in their ranks._  
  
_“One of you will tell me where you are hiding them. One way or another.” Ren said, calmly. He turned toward his first victim. An Ithorian. Ren ignited his saber and held it out till the blade spat against the Ithorian’s face. “Where are you hiding them?” The Ithorian refused to answer. So, Ren drove his saber through his neck, decapitating him. The crowd of villagers all cried out in despair. Kylo moved on to the next one. The same question was asked. The same result occurred. One after the other the villagers fell, adding to the pile of corpses that already littered the once lively farmstead. He was halfway down the line when he encountered something different. A young female Bimm, cowering behind her long, floppy ears. She squeaked when the saber was pointed at her._  
  
_“Anyone?” Kylo called out. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, where the Light still lingered, he desperately hoped that someone would speak out. Surely, they wouldn’t let a child die for the sake of some criminals. But he would do it if he had to. It wouldn’t be the first time._  
  
_“They’re in my cellar!” Another Bimm shouted frantically. “I’ll show you were they are if you just let my daughter go, please, she has nothing to do with anything!”_  
  
_“Show me.” Kylo said, lowering his weapon. The adult Bimm was forced to her feet by the Stormtrooper behind her. She led Kylo Ren and his guards towards the edge of the village, which was still mostly untouched by flame, to what looked to be a huge pile of hay._  
  
_“Underneath.” She muttered. Ren held out his hand and within an instant the hay was blown away, to reveal underneath a wooden lattice built into the ground. The lock was no match for the Force as Kylo blasted the thing open._  
  
_“Wait here. I shall take care of this alone.” Kylo instructed his men. He then headed down the steps into the room that was only lit by a small dangling bulb. The two renegades were already stood waiting for him, their expressions defiant._  
  
_“The Resistance will win this war. Good always triumphs over evil in the end.” One of them said, pointing his blaster at him. A futile attempt to stand his ground._  
  
_“No. The First Order is not evil. We are just. We will end this war and bring peace to the Galaxy. We will make certain that none such as the likes of you will ever rise up again, we will reign supreme. It is time for a new era, it is time to kill the past and look to a better future.” Ren said, sparking to life his saber. He blocked the oncoming shot, ricocheting the energy into the nearest wall. Then he thrust his saber through the man’s chest. Before the other man could raise his blaster, his limbs were forcefully frozen, his arms locked in place by his side and his legs rooted to the ground._  
  
_“You won’t get away with this.” The man spat._  
  
_“That is where you’re wrong.” He said, cutting the man in half._  
  
  
_The information was dead. Mission successful._  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm literally making this up as I go along...I should really make a plan or something...
> 
> Anyone got any ideas? XD


End file.
